Sugar, We're Going Down
by x3SunshineSharpies
Summary: Charlotte and Dougie have been bestfriends since they can remember. Will things get in the way of that?
1. Chapter 1

My best friends name is Dougie. Dougie has been my best friend since we were three years old. We were three years old fourteen years ago. Fourteen years is a long time to secretly be in love with your best friend. Whose name is Dougie.

_Essex_

_Sunday, November 13, 2005_

_2:55 a.m._

_Ring_

"I'm sleeping." I mumbled to the darkness.

_Ring_

I rolled over and reached blindly for the receiver.

"Hello?"

_"C-Dog it's me."_

" Dougie? It's three o'clock in the fucking morning. You better be on the verge of death."

_"Well...not exactly."_

"What's wrong?"

"_Nothing's wrong."_

"You said you weren't exactly on the verge of death, meaning you're close."

_"I lied."_

"Shocking. Why are you calling me?"

_"First of all; ouch. Second, I'm calling because I love the sound of your voice."_

"Time and time again you prove that chivalry is, in fact, not dead."

_"Your sarcasm is sexy."_

"Only to the mentally impaired."

_"Playing on my disability isn't fair."_

"You calling me at three a.m. isn't exactly the epitome of reasonable."

_"That just wasn't funny."_

"Forgive me, Dougie, my comebacks are better at four."

_"But that's a whole hour away."_

"Your point?"

_"I need you now."_

"Are you coming on to me?"

_"Please, can I come over? Char, I promise I'll be quiet. You can go right back to sleep once I get there."_

"Dougie, what's wrong?"

_"Nothing's wrong."_

"Hurry your ass up then, I'm tired."

_"Be there in a tick."_

"You're such a dork."

_"You think it's hot."_

"Uh huh. I'll open my window."

_"Thank you."_

_Click_

_Dial Tone_

_Sunday November 13, 2005_

_3:13 a.m._

I knew he was there before he even made a sound. I'm not sure how. The energy in the room shifted or something. It became so much more alive, and not just because he was wide awake and I was half out, but because he was just such an alive person. He glowed.

It had always been that way. I could feel him before I could hear, see or smell him. I never knew for certain whether or not this sixth sense went both ways. I'd really like to think that it did.

Seconds after I felt his presence in my room, I heard the window slide shut and soft footsteps patter across my carpet. Then the bed sank, and an arm fell across my shoulders. We laid in silence for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe. It was exactly what I imagined Heaven would be like, lying under his arm.

"Charizzle?" Dougie whispered into my ear. I rolled over, my back had been to him, and blinked rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was looking at me, his eyes were huge and his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth. He looked like a lost puppy, so innocent and so sad, but very mischievous at the same time.

"Hello, Dougie." I whispered back. He cracked a smile and tucked his arm under his head.

"Do you always let strangers crawl into bed with you?"

"It's just you." I mimicked his movement.

"But how did you know that? For all you knew I was a rapist serial killer." His other arm had slowly slid off of me and was draped casually over his own hip.

My eyebrows rose; "Aren't you?"

"I'm too squeamish to kill people. And you can't rape the willing."

"You're so sure everyone wants you."

"Who could resist me? Honestly?"

"Do you want that list alphabetically?" I tried not to smile. It was too dark to see the deep blush that had crept up my neck, and I thanked god for that every day for a week.

"Ya know," Dougie began, his eyes roaming over me carefully as if he was studying me; "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were insulting me."

"Never." I did my best attempt to sound innocent. Dougie smiled, which meant I failed, and reached forward quickly to pinch my side. I squealed, much to his amusement, and swatted his hand away.

"See, you act tough but you're such a girl on the inside."

"I'm a girl on the outside too, Dougie."

"Well, I'll be goddamned." He winked at me, the white of his eye flashing for a second in the pale moonlight through my window; "So you are."

_Sunday November 13, 2005  
_

_7:00 a.m._

There was an annoying buzzing sound. I thought for a split second that maybe there was a bee in my room. I considered screaming and rolling onto the floor then under the bed. Then I heard Dougie talking. His stupid cell phone had been on vibrate.

"Yea, I'm not at home." Dougie was saying. He yawned and the bed shifted as he sat up. I squeezed my eyes shut, I could feel his breath on my face as he leaned over to check if I was awake. I guess he bought my acting. The bed jiggled some more.

"Charlotte's." He said. I heard him sigh and immediately I knew who was on the other end. Rosalie Forese. Dougie's girlfriend, Rosalie Forese. I resisted the urge to stick my finger down my throat and gag. Instead I made a rather loud snoring noise and mumbled something about Arnold Schwarzenegger and Swiss cheese. Dougie laughed at me and slid out of the bed.

"It's not anything, baby. She's just my friend."

Inwardly, I cringed. I mouthed the words; "Just my friend." Mocking him. I rolled my eyes into my skull and tried to imagine all the ways I could dispose of Rosalie Forese.

"Come on, Rose. Don't be like that."

I could knock her out and leave her in the middle of the desert for the rattle snakes and buzzards. There are rattle snakes in the desert, right? Big ugly ones.

"Rosalie, sweetheart, you're my girl. My only girl."

Or maybe I could tie her to a rail road track like in those old silent movies. I'd even be willing to grow the wicked mustache.

"I love you."

Fuck it. As long as it's not messy I don't care.

"Yea, so, what are you wearing?"

The girl must die.

"Aw, Ros-"

I flung the blanket from the bed and sat up with a loud shriek. Dougie dropped his phone and rushed to my side.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?" He bent down in front of me, holding my face and looking into my eyes. I stared at him for a minute then I jerked my head toward the sound of shouting coming from the corner. Dougie followed my gaze and quickly scrambled across the room to get his phone.

"Rosalie? I'm sorry it--Char--Rosalie, baby, I have to go." Dougie hung up, but by the time he turned around I had already laid back down and was feigning sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pencil was on the floor, three feet away. It had fallen off of my desk two minutes ago, and three feet was getting farther and farther away with each tick of the clock. I stared at it, willing it to roll back to me. I tried desperately to summon the Jedi within, Yoda, be my guide. Nothing. With a long, submissive sigh I leaned sideways out of my desk and stretched out my hand. I could feel the smooth wood at the tip of my fingers, when it was snatched up by someone's evil hand. I turned my head at an awkward and uncomfortable angle to see them.

"I picked up your pencil for you." Dougie grinned down at me. I struggled back into my seat.

"Why thank you, Dougie Wougie Pumpkin -"

"Don't finish that."

"-Lover." I batted my eyelashes at him. Dougie cracked a grin and slid into the empty desk across from me. He set my pencil on my desk.

"So what the fuck happened this morning?"

I puckered my lips and swiveled to face the front of the classroom. The teacher was practically asleep behind her desk, and everyone was talking and goofing around.

"Would you still be my friend if I looked like this?" I asked Dougie.

"I would be your friend even if your ass was inside out."

"If my ass was inside out I would look like you."

"In which case we would have to get married and make backward ass babies."

I turned back to Dougie; "Only if we can raise them to worship Big Bird."

"You want our children to pray to a stuffed animal with a hand up its ass?" Dougie raised an eyebrow.

"Big Bird is a guy in a suit, mutha fucka." I did my award winning gangster impression and gave him the west side hand gesture. Dougie narrowed his eyes at me.

"If I allow this puppet worshiping shit to go on then you have to promise to have sex with me at least five days a week."

I made the flirtiest face I could, which made Dougie snort he laughed so hard.

"Okay but never on Thursdays, that's the new day of the lord."

Dougie winked at me; "Alright, never on Thursdays."

"Deal." We shook hands.

"So about this morning..." Dougie began. The bell rang before I had a chance to answer, thankfully. I leapt out of my seat and vaulted over the row of desks between me and the door.

"Peace out, wigga!"


	2. Chapter 2

_November 13, 2005_

_2:23 p.m._

I thought, maybe, if I puffed out my cheeks far enough, my face would explode. I made a rather unintelligent bet with a friend that I could manage it before he could finish his Mountain Dew Slushy. I passed out and he got severe brain freeze. We both ended up in the nurses office with only a foggy recollection of how we got there in the first place.

"Chari?" Dougie strolled into the white, peroxide smelling room and stared at me. I sat on the edge of the cot with an ice pack to my forehead and my bottom lip sticking out.

"Ello, Douglas." I imitated his English accent. He smiled and sat next to me.

"The office called me down so I could drive you home."

"Finally after all these years they've realized we are attached at the hip."

"Meh, they knew it all along." Dougie moved my hand from the ice pack and held it himself, "They've just stopped trying to separate us."

I struggled against my smile, trying to look as pathetic as possible.

"So how did you hit your head?" Dougie asked, removing the ice pack to examine my bump.

"I was trying to prove to Danny that I could blow my own face off." I explained, my eyes on my black and purple Converse.

"You really should leave that to the professionals."

"I am as close to a professional as they come."

"How many times have I told you, if the guys on Jackass can't do it, no one can."

"So you're saying, until Steve--O shoves an entire emu up his nose I shouldn't try?"

"Precisely." Dougie smiled and kissed my forehead then he replaced the ice pack. "How's Danny?"

"Catatonic." I bit my lip and glanced over my shoulder at our friend. He was kind of twitching.

"Huh." Dougie looked at him; "Are you resisting the urge to poke him, too?"

"I'd rather stick gummy bears up his nose."

"Do you have some nose fetish I have yet to learn about?" Dougie asked me.

"Now that you mention it." I leaned forward and attempted to stick my finger in Dougie's nose. He swatted my hand away.

"Got any other weird secrets I need to know before we get married?" He stood up. I thought for a second.

"Well I guess I should tell you that I'm madly in love with you."

Dougie grinned and yanked me up by the arm. He wrapped me in a tight hug then started to the door. Just as we reached it, he turned around and ran over to Danny. Dougie undid Dan's belt and slid Danny's hand inside. Then he rejoined me and we skipped out to the parking lot.

_November 13, 2005_

_5:11 p.m._

Dougie brought me home and simply decided to stick around for a few hours. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him to do that, really he probably lived at my house more than his own. Obviously, I liked it that way.

"Do you have any mustard?" Dougie asked me. He was halfway into the refrigerator. I took the opportunity to get a good look at his butt before answering.

"If you can't see it, it isn't there."

"You're such a realist." Dougie backed out of the fridge empty handed and pushed it closed with his hip. "Do you believe in the boogie man?"

"No."

"Santa."

"Nope."

"I know you believe in the Easter Bunny."

"Dougie, please."

"Alright," Dougie hopped up onto the counter beside me; "But I'm making it known here and now that I believe in the Easter Bunny."

I shook my head and smiled; "Of course you do." I ruffled his hair, receiving a jab to my ribcage in response. Just as a loud shrill squeal left my mouth, my mother struggled into the kitchen, shopping bags in both arms.

"Dougie, stop molesting my daughter." She joked with a wink. Dougie cleared his throat.

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am." He saluted her. I rolled my eyes and died a little on the inside. My mother and Dougie were as close as if they were family, except they weren't, and my mom had zero reservations about crossing that bright neon line in between.

Dougie hopped down and took one of the bags from my mom, she smiled and thanked him.

"So what are you kids up to tonight?" She asked, setting a bag beside me. I peered into it, reaching down to retrieve a box of animal crackers.

"Well, mother dearest, we figured we'd go out with the bitches and smoke some crack." I answered nonchalantly. Dougie snorted and I looked up to see my mom's infamous 'That's Not Funny, Charlotte Marie' look. I smiled; "Just kidding. Dougie's allergic to crack and the bitches scare the shit out of me." I bit the head off of a donkey and did my best to look innocent. My mother just rolled her eyes and Dougie gave me a thumb's up. I flipped him the bird just as my mother turned to look at me. Her jaw dropped and I leapt off the counter and started tucking groceries into various cupboards. I could hear Dougie laughing hysterically. My mother walked past behind me and swatted me gently on the back of the head. I gave her a look and tossed a carton of eggs at Dougie.

"So what are you two really doing?" My mom asked. She sat down at the table, making an exaggerated grunt as she did as if she were really old or something. I shrugged again and opened a bag of Oreos.

"I don't know. Dougie wha--"

"I have a date." He grinned and took the cookie out of my hand and ate it. I just stared at my empty hand with my mouth hanging open and tried to pretend he hadn't just said that.

"Oh, well now, with who?" My mother's over excitement made me nauseous. I pulled a face and pushed the bag of cookies away from me, opting for the carton of ice cream in the plastic grocery bag next to it.

"Rosalie." Dougie grinned again, licking the white frosting off the cookie. I rummaged through a drawer for a spoon and couldn't seem to find one. I cursed inwardly and opened another drawer.

"Where are the spoons?"

"Is she your girlfriend?" My mom asked. I still found no spoon. What the hell is going on here? I thought.

"Why are there no spoons?"

"Yea, going on three months." Dougie said proudly. I dug frantically through a third drawer.

"Seriously, mo--"

"Dougie I'm so happy for you, that's wonderful. Is she pretty?" My mom was leaning forward as if this was the most interesting thing to ever happen in the history of the world. I bent over to peek deep into the back of the drawer.

"Yea." Dougie sighed, I mean actually sighed; like in those old black and white romance flicks. He fucking sighed! And if that wasn't enough, he kept talking; "She's the most beautiful girl in the world."

"God!" I slammed the drawer; "Why the hell can't I find a freaking spoon?! Where are all the spoons?!" I shouted. Both my mother and Dougie looked at me. They stared, open mouthed. I just stood there and blinked. Dougie reached past me into the sink and pulled a spoon out of the strainer. I just looked at it, let out a helpless whine of a sigh and walked away. I went upstairs and shut myself in my room, turned on the stereo; and buried my head in the sand. Like a fucking ostrich. I hate ostriches.

_November 13 2005_

_5:30 p.m._

The door to my room opened slowly, a long, low creak resonating through the house. I didn't move; my face was smashed into a pillow and I mumbled "Go the fuck away." Although I'm sure whoever was in there couldn't understand me.

"What?" Dougie laughed.

See?

He sat on my bed next to me, his back against the headboard. He didn't say anything else. I turned my head sideways to look at him.

"I said; 'Wud up, yo?'"

"Spoons really get you down then?" Dougie cocked his head to the side; "I mean, if I had known you were that sentimental about your silverware-"

"Not all silverware." I sighed; "But, yea, spoons and me, we go way back." I jerked my head to get my bangs out of my eyes; "I've been using spoons since I was just a baby."

Dougie grinned; "Now's when you pull out your slideshow of pictures of you and some spoon eating ice cream and running on the beach."

I hid my smile; "I only have one of those slideshows."

"Oh yea?" Dougie laughed; "And it's you with your Count Chocula doll, isn't it?"

I shook my head; "I traded him in for limited edition Snap, Crackle and Pop bobble heads."

"Right, so that means the slideshow only has one more option."

I averted my eyes and picked at the embroidery on my comforter; "It's me and you, Dougie." I tried to say it with as much sincerity as possible. I mean, metaphorically, I did only have the one slideshow.

Dougie slid down to lay on his back then rolled onto his stomach and swung an arm around my shoulders. "I was going to guess Dolly Parton. But you and me makes much more sense." He wriggled closer to me and lifted his head to kiss my cheek; "You're right, it's you and me. You and me till the wheels fall off."

Oh, Dougie, if only you knew.


	3. Chapter 3

_November 13, 2005_

_8:00 p.m._

"Have you ever seriously considered the impracticality of this entire concept?"

I let my eyes roll sideways to look at the person sitting next to me. Their eyes were fixed on the television, a very contemplative look plastered on their pudgy face.

"I mean, seriously. How did they get that faucet thing inside the Peach pit in the first place?"

I focused back on the screen. I hadn't really even been watching the movie. I had been daydreaming, or more like having a day-nightmare...I kept thinking about what Dougie was doing right that very minute, and who he was doing it with.

"When did the bugs put clothes on? How did they find sweaters with that many sleeves?"

I glanced up at the clock on the wall near the door. Sick. I felt like I had been slumped down on that lumpy couch forever but it had only been a few hours. I should just go to sleep. I thought.

"And the aunts sunk in the ocean, right? They get out of their car in New York covered in sea weed and dripping wet. Does that mean I'm supposed to believe that they just drove under the water all the way across the ocean?"

I sighed loudly; "Yes, Dan, that is exactly what you are supposed to do." I answered calmly. Danny looked at me.

"It's crazy."

"It's a movie."

"But is it too much to ask for them to be realistic?"

"Maybe it's like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, eh?"

"No." Danny shook his head disapprovingly. I widened my eyes at the glowing screen.

"I'd be willing to believe it."

Danny ignored me and gestured at the screen; "I mean thousands of children are going to watch this movie, and then they're going to think they can drive across the ocean under water and not drown."

"Please, Dannyboy, no one's that stupid." I reached sideways into the bowl of popcorn beside me. When Danny didn't immediately respond, I shifted my eyes to him and stopped with the popcorn poised at my lips. He was glaring at the TV. I stifled a laugh, "No way."

"Shut up." He grumbled and stood up. I struggled from my position enveloped in the cushions and followed him into the kitchen.

"You really believed you could drive across the ocean?" I asked, a large stupid smile on my face. Danny stood on tiptoe and reached into a cupboard pulling down a glass. He ignored me and sided past to the fridge. I put my hands on my hips, "Daniel." I said sternly. Danny turned around and gave me the evilest glare I had ever seen.

"Don't be a retard, Charbear." He growled, "James and the Giant Peach just came out."

"Okay so why the sudden IMS?" I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the counter. Danny set the bottle of orange juice on the counter beside his still empty glass and sighed.

"You know that fucking book A Little Princess?" He asked, his eyebrows rose half up his forehead so seriously that my barely suppressible laugh struggled up my throat and came out as a hiccup.

"'scuse me." I smiled. Danny rolled his eyes at me but continued.

"Okay so, you know how the little girl tells the maid lady that her doll comes to life whenever she leaves the room?" He looked very perplexed, so I nodded quickly. Then it hit me what exactly he had childishly believed.

"Oh my poor, poor Dannyboy." I covered my mouth and tried not to laugh. Danny shrugged.

"I shut my door and stomped my feet so it would think I was leaving, then I would open the door really fast." He acted out the little scene, as if I couldn't get the full picture without movements. Danny shook his head, "Stupid bear was always just sitting there. I did that for two hours straight one day."

"And it didn't occur to you that maybe it was just a toy after all?"

"Nope." Danny poured some juice into his glass, "I just figured he was really fast."

I took a few steps toward Danny and snatched the dirty beanie from his head. He barely got out a protest before I clapped a hand over his mouth. After assuring me he wouldn't curse me out, I moved my hand. I gave him a very serious look and slid his hat onto my head. Then I ruffled his hair, "Maybe he was dead."

_November 14, 2005_

_12:15 p.m._

_Ring_

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." I groaned, rolling over and glancing at the clock beside my bed.

_Ring_

"Ahhh, mother fucker." I reached blindly sideways and picked up my phone; "Ciao, come siete? Perche state denominandovelo bastardo ugly?"

(Hello, how are you? Why are you calling me you ugly bastard?)

_"Funny how you can still speak perfect Italian at midnight."_ The easily recognizable voice on the other end responded.

"L''Oh, Douglas, siete unici e lo spirito innegabile e sia hysterical che estremamente attraente. Perdonimi un momento mentre vomito." I laid back and let out a low sigh.

(Oh, Douglas, you''re unique and undeniable wit is both hysterical and extremely attractive. Forgive me one moment while I vomit.)

_"Ugh, you know what your bilingualness does to me."_ Dougie made a rather embarrassing groaning sound. I stifled a laugh.

"Pervertito."

(Pervert)

_"Ah ha, you know it, sugar."_

"Aww, you called me sugar. I love sugar."

_"Me too. I also love frosting, and Lucky Charms."_

"So, besides to discuss things that cause the obvious jelly roll I'm developing, why did you call me?"

_"You are so not developing a jelly roll."_

"I am. And please don't stare at my fat."

_"Wendy, shut the fuck up, you're not even close to fat. There isn't even any fat on your body. You're fatless. In fact if anything you're too skinny, you're like paper."_

"Thank you, that does wonders for my self esteem."

_"Self esteem is over rated."_

"Peter Pan, I need to sleep before I wither away to nothing."

_"Call me Peter Pan in Italian and I'll bring you some fairy dust."_

"What the hell am I going to do with fairy dust?"

_"You can come to Never Neverland and plunder my pirate ship."_

"Oh for fuck's sake."

_"Now in Italian."_

"L''Oh nell''interesse della scopata."

_"Oh yea."_ Another throaty groan sounded from his end of the line. I felt myself blush and shifted with slight embarrassment despite my pitch black surroundings. Although I would never openly admit to it, I enjoyed "teasing" him.

"Ew, control yourself. I'm still slightly uncorrupted over here and I'd like to stay that way."

_"Let me come over and I'll fix that for you."_

I paused, unsure whether or not to take him seriously. Finally, still unsure, I cleared my throat, "Have you been drinking?"

_"No. I just miss you. It's been hours."_

"Pugsley, why are you calling?"

_"Do I need a reason?"_

"It's past midnight, sooo, yes." I waited patiently for a few minutes while he must have been thinking. Then I smiled as he laughed lightly and answered.

_"You're my best friend, Charlotte. I wuvvles you."_

I rolled my eyes, because even though I hated him for only saying best friend, I loved him all the same, "Apriro la finestra mia."

(I'll open my window.)

_Click_

_Dial tone_

_November 20, 2005_

Nearly one week passed from watching James and The Giant Peach with Danny and then sleeping with a very evasive and horny Dougie. That's right, evasive and horny. Particularly obnoxious combination. He kept making insinuative comments and when I asked him about his date he shrugged and told me it was good. Like I said, evasive.

I was very unlike Dougie to simply shrug off an opportunity to talk about Rosalie. He didn't realize the very thought of her made me physically ill. I've always been a terrific actor.

But I put it out of my mind, and over that week things were pretty much normal. Or as normal as things ever were with Dougie.

And so came the 20th. The 20th was more than just another day, the 20th is my birthday. And Dougie's. It's always been one of the coolest things about our friendship; having the same birthday. And we always spent our birthday together, sitting at one of our houses watching every John Hughes movie we could get our hands on and feasting on Snack Packs and frozen Lasagna. It didn't matter how many parties were being held or who wanted to do what with us in celebration; me and Dougie always stuck with our tradition.

"So Dan, what did you get me?" I asked sweetly as I slid onto the bench beside Danny. It was lunch time and our little group of homies had gathered in the usual spot, at the usual table in the usual corner of the reeking cafeteria. Danny glared at me over the spoon hanging out of his mouth.

"Why would I get you anything?"

"Because you love me and I'm pretty."

"You have the sweetest delusions."

I let my jaw fall open and glanced, horrified, around the table. Everyone just smiled back at me. I turned to Dougie on my other side for some kind of defense, but he was staring off into space ignoring both our conversation and his French fries. I nudged him.

"Doug?"

"Hmm?"

"What's with the lack of back having?" I asked as I pulled the aluminum top off of my Jell-O cup. He blinked at me slowly then glanced at our friend Tom across the table.

"Don't look at me, I don't speak her language." He held up his hands and leaned back. Dougie looked back at me.

"Sorry." Was all he said. I stopped mid bite of my desert and stared at him.

"Uh, it's cool." Then I looked at Danny. He looked just as confused by Dougie's lack of sarcastic enthusiasm as I was. Dougie was never void of some kind of witty remark or wise-assery. The table was silent for a few minutes, everyone picking at their food awkwardly. I chewed thoughtfully on my Jell-O and stared at Dougie. When he finally looked at me, I fluttered my eyelashes at him, making him crack a small smile.

"So are you two having your usual junk food and crappy movie binge tonight?" Tom asked, his arm draped casually over the shoulders of his girlfriend and my best female friend, Leah.

"Don't diss the Breakfast Club, biznatch. Judd Nelson is hardcore." I pointed my spoon at him, "And of course we are, right Dougs?"

Dougie was too hesitant about confirming. Everyone's heads turned slowly to him, all of us slightly unnerved by his strange mood. Finally he answered, "Um, I actually have to go somewhere." He wouldn't look at me.

No one said anything. I stared down into my cup and tried desperately to still the nervous and hurt butterflies that had begun savagely swirling around in my stomach and chest, "Yea? Where?"

"My parents want to take me out for dinner."

"Oh--"

"You know, turning eighteen is a big deal I guess--"

"Well if your parents want you to go with them then it's fine--"

"I mean its not that I don't want to hang out--"

"You can't go and disappoint your parentals--"

"We can get together tomorrow too--"

"Parents are pretty special things, yea, and eighteen is a big deal--"

"If you want to--"

"It's cool-"

"It's cool?"

"Uh..." I hesitated, really wanting him to come with me, then I set my Jell-O down and folded my hands in my lap, "Yea, it's cool. Don't worry about it, we'll just do something tomorrow then." I gave him the best smile I could without actually looking at him. Dougie's hand found its way onto my back.

"Thanks, Charoo." His voice had gone back to the normal happy--go--lucky overly--excited Dougie Poynter we all knew, and so I tried not to feel especially bitter at him for ditching our tradition.

"Oh, shit, I gotta go. I have a test next period and I don't have a fucking clue what's going on in there." Dougie got up suddenly, as if he hadn't just disrupted a birthday theme almost ten years running. He planted a quick kiss to my head and waved to the rest of the gang then he walked off out of the room. I just stared at the table top and avoided making eye contact with anyone at the table. They all knew how much our birthday meant to me and how much it had always meant to Dougie. His parents knew that we did this every year, what was their problem? I tried to shove it out of my mind. How depressing.

"Charlotte?" Leah called from across the table. I looked up slowly. She looked like she was feeling sorry for me. I hate it when people look at me like they feel sorry for me. You can feel sorry for me all you want, just don't look at me like you do.

"Yes?"

"There's a party tonight. You should come with us. It'll be fun." She said carefully, like she was afraid I might bite her, "You know, since you're not busy anymore."

I frowned and opened my mouth to say something bitter and sarcastic but Tom cut me off.

"Come on, it'll take your mind off things." He covered for his girlfriend, "Besides, you shouldn't sit by yourself on your eighteenth birthday." He gave me puppy dog eyes and jutted out his lower lip. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Well I suppose I can make an appearance." I sighed, "Since I'm not busy anymore." I forced a laugh so they would think I was really okay. I was trying very hard to be alright with this, it was just one birthday after all. One out of how many that we spent together? It was no big deal, it wasn't his fault if his parents wanted to take him out to dinner, right? No. It wasn't. Nope.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm aware Doug's birthday is the 30th.

The 20th fits with something that happens later in the story

_November 20, 2005_

That night, at about nine, I stood in front of my mirror, fidgeting with the end of my skirt and chewing on my lip. I had been to thousands of parties, but Danny was always at these parties to protect me from the scary jocks and drunken cheerleaders. This time he would be sitting in some fancy restaurant with his parents eating weird French food and talking about life while I gulped down gallons of Jack Daniels and inhaled second hand marijuana with strangers and weirdos. I sighed and briefly debated calling Leah to cancel. I didn't like going it alone. And alone is how I would truly be going it. Although I would arrive with Tom, Leah and Danny, I would inevitably end up alone. Tom and Leah would go off together to make out and Danny would be drawn to the pot like a moth to a flame. So I would spend my eighteenth birthday virtually alone in a cloud of smoke and a sea of hormonal teens.

Ahh, the irony.

A car horn honked outside and I skipped down the stairs and out the front door with a shout of goodbye to my mother. Tom's black car was parked crookedly along the curb and Leah leaned out the window, already half in the bag, to blow a perfect smoke ring into the dark, cool air. I slid into the backseat along with Danny and boy I had seen a few times but never really spoken too.

"Hello." I said to him. He smiled shyly and shook my hand.

"That's Kyle." Leah told me with a giggle; I could see clearly from the backseat that Tom's hand was on her thigh, and I inwardly groaned knowing that they probably wouldn't even get out of the car.

"And she's Charlotte." Danny told Kyle. We both smiled at each other.

"It's your birthday?" Kyle asked me. I nodded. He nodded. We nodded.

"Yes." I said quickly.

"Uh, happy birthday." He said awkwardly. I smiled.

"Uh, thank you."

The rest of the car ride was filled with absurd giggles from the front seat and Danny singing from the back. I don't know if he was tuning out Leah and Tom or if he was already slightly stoned, but his usually beautiful singing was off key and nauseating.

We finally reached the party and I practically leapt out of the car, Kyle only seconds slower than me on the other side. I shot him an understanding smile over the roof and headed toward the house. The minute I crossed the threshold someone handed me a plastic cup of something dark. I stared into and seriously debated drinking it. I already felt like I needed a drink, and not just because I was eighteen and wanted to get plastered, because I was feeling depressed and neglected and annoyed.

Someone pinched my ass and disappeared into the crowd. I set the cup down on the table beside me and moved on, opting for a fresh beer rather than the possible roofie awaiting me in that cup.

The house was extremely crowded. I didn't know very many of the people, but that didn't matter. I smiled at anyone who made eye contact and usually they smiled back or said hello. I didn't bother checking behind me for Danny or Kyle or the others, I knew they weren't there, and part of me wanted to lose them.

I found my way to the kitchen and the alcohol. With a long and dramatic sigh I popped open a bottle of beer and took a thorough swig. The cold liquid flowed through me and seemingly cleansed me of some of the tension in my body. I liked the thought of being cleansed, so I drank the rest of it. And at least four more. I don't know for sure, I didn't even bother counting. Time became something like a stop motion film. I remember setting down an empty bottle and then suddenly I was standing in the middle of the dining room with a beer bong as the gathering crowd around me cheered. I know I saw Danny' s face, complete with red glazed eyes, watching me. He was cheering along with everyone else. I bet if he wasn't stoned he would have stopped me.

After the beer bonging, I found my way into the living room and onto the couch with some boy in a letter jacket with badly groomed facial hair and a tongue stud. I made out with him for a while, and gave him my number before rushing up the stairs and, with some unusual stroke of luck, into the bathroom to hurl into the toilet.

Then there's a long period of nothing, just nothing. I don't know how much time passed, but later I found out it wasn't very long at all. Something like, twenty minutes, before I opened my eyes and got up from the bathroom floor. There was a girl passed out on the floor next to me, and a boy in the bathtub. The shower was running, and he was wearing nothing but a leopard print thong and big plastic Patrick Swayze sunglasses. I averted my eyes and rinsed out my mouth. I felt incredibly sober right then. It's amazing what a good vomit will do for you.

I stumbled tiredly out of the bathroom and started down the hall. I was going to find Tom and Leah, I wanted to go home. I had gone to the party like they wanted, I had gotten my mind off of things. It was great. Sarcasm, it's lovely.

I leaned against the wall for some support, I felt very exhausted, and my body was still shaking from throwing up. As I passed over numerous closed doors I tried not to giggle at the sound of what the occupants were doing. I'm very mature, as you see. At least they're considerate enough to shut their doors, even if they aren't being very discrete about their activities. I thought. My thought was interrupted, however, as I slid passed a door that wasn't shut all the way. It swung open when I leaned against it, startling the couple inside. I fell sprawled across the floor and considered pretending to be unconscious so they wouldn't think I was some creepy pervert.

"I'm sorry!" I began, before even getting off the floor, "I wasn't spying! I swear, I'm not some weird, pervy crack head! I was just wandering down the hallway after puking and--"

"Char?" The boy in the room asked. Something about the way this easily recognizable voice said my name made my stomach plummet. I sat up on my knees and looked up at the couple. I almost threw up again.

"Douigie?" I asked, shocked, "What are you doing here?"

He just stared down at me, and I realized very suddenly that he was not only shirtless but pants less. And he was not alone. I didn't even hide the look of incredulous and painful disbelief on my face as I covered my eyes with my hand and crawled out of the room. As I rounded the corner I reached up and pulled the door shut, ignoring Dougie calling my name as I did so.

_November 21, 2005_

_3:30 a.m_

_Ring_

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. My eyes were red and sore from hours of confused and angry crying.

_Ring_

Those same eyes shifted painfully sideways to glance in the direction of the ringing. I knew who it was.

_Ring_

I reached over slowly and curled my numb fingers around the receiver. I lifted it up, and set it back down. Then I picked it back up and let it drop to the floor.

_Empty dial tone_

I rolled over and stared out my window, closing my tired eyes as more tears began to fall. Eventually I managed to cry myself to sleep

_Two Days Later_

Dougie called me every twenty minutes. Every time he called I asked my mom to tell him I was sick and losing my voice and that I would call him as soon as I could. She believed me. I knew he would be able to see through it. But he never ratted me out to her; whether it was because he was that good of a friend not to rope my mother into our little spat or if it was just because he was embarrassed...it didn't matter. It would be pretty embarrassing on both parts.

Then finally came the unavoidable physical visit. I guess he got sick of the cold shoulder and decided to just drop by. When the door bell rang I was lying on the couch, my face flat against the cushion, staring at the TV. I could feel a pool of drool begin to mix with the damp stain from my tears shed almost an hour ago.

My mother answered the door and I looked up as he very slowly came into the room. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his hair was slightly askew and he looked very ashamed of himself. For a brief second I felt bad about being angry. A very brief second.

"Hi." He said to me softly. I stared up at him, mentally daring him to say something stupid in front of my mother. He just stood there and looked back at me. Maybe he was trying to share an apology through telepathy. It was all lost in translation.

"Char, can I talk to you?" He asked, glancing back at my mom. I blinked at him and then looked away.

"I'm watching something right now, can it wait?"

Dougie turned and looked at the TV then back at me, "It's not even on."

"'It's not even on.'" I mocked him and sat up. I got up and shoved past him into the kitchen, where I gathered a bowl and a carton of eggs from the fridge before he appeared behind me.

"Why haven't you been taking my calls?" He asked quietly. Now that mom wasn't in the room he had found his voice. I cracked an egg and dropped it's contents into my bowl, but I didn't answer him.

"Charlotte?"

"I was sick." I said simply, cracking another egg. Dougie sighed.

"I know you weren't sick."

"Oh, well, so you're not a complete moron after all." I smiled curtly at the yellow glop in front of me and cracked one more egg.

"Okay, I deserved that." Dougie said and flinched when I nodded. I moved sideways and reached around Dougie to get a whisk out of the drawer. He moved to accommodate me, even though I acted as if he wasn't there.

"Charbear I--" Dougie began, but I cut him off.

"Sorry, I'm a little busy right now."

"Come on, Ch--"

"Too busy to talk."

"Even to _me_?" His voice went up in an attempt at cuteness. I was too angry for it to affect me.

"Especially to you." I answered.

"Charlotte--"

"Busy!" I sang.

Dougie sighed, "Doing what?"

"I'm whisking."

"Oh, Charlotte, please just listen to m--"

"_**Whisking!**_" I shouted in a shrill sing song voice. Dougie shut up and let out a long sigh. I continued with my fervent whisking for a few very long and very silent minutes. Then I pushed the bowl aside and turned around to face him. I leaned back against the counter, my hands firmly gripping its edge behind my back. He was leaning against the opposite counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was watching me carefully, and his beautiful eyes looked big and sad. I licked my lips contemplatively.

"You didn't go with your parents at all, did you?" I asked. There was a long pause during which my question hung in the air like a pungent odor. Dougie's eyes stayed locked with mine but he shook his head slowly. I nodded, "So that's why you were acting so weird at lunch. You felt bad because you were lying to me."

Dougie sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nodded. I felt the pressure of oncoming tears push at the back of my eyes and sting the back of my throat. I forced them down and let out a sardonic laugh.

"God, Dougie, try not to look so fucking guilty." I said quietly, "I mean, if you're going to lie to me don't ruin it for yourself by growing a conscience."

Dougie's mouth opened and closed a few times then he took a slow step toward me and put his hands on my shoulders, "I'm so--"

"Don't!" I pushed him away and stepped out of his reach. The tears were starting to beat me and I wiped at my eyes quickly before crossing my arms over my chest, "You fucking _**lied**_ to me, Douie! _**You lied**_! How am I supposed to just blindly trust you now? You're my best friend, Dougie!" I shouted, "My _**best**_ friend. That's supposed to mean something."

"It does." Dougie whispered. His voice coming out almost as a squeak.

"Then why did you ditch me to have sex with that...hussy you call a girlfriend?"

Dougie stared at me for a minute before the corners of his mouth began twitching, "Hussy?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "It's not funny. Don't laugh." I growled.

Dougie's face contorted and he struggled very noticeably for a long time before he snorted loudly. I stepped forward and smacked him. It only made him laugh harder.

"Douglas Lee Poynter!" I scolded, now holding back my own threatening laughter, "Stop laughing, we're having a fight."

Dougie managed to get his laughter under control by taking a long cleansing breath and passing a hand over his face very slowly. Watching him do that, made me snort with amusement. While I was uninhibited by my laughter, Dougie reached forward and wrapped me in a tight, almost suffocating hug. He buried his face in my hair with his mouth against my ear and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I love you. Forgive me?"

I didn't fight him. As soon as my giggles surpassed I buried my face in the crook of his neck and squeezed my eyes shut. Dougie could always get to me like that. There was no fighting him, he was a force to be reckoned with. A beautiful, amazing force of nature. And I was caught in his path, a helpless victim to this unbelievable disaster. But not so much a disaster as a masterpiece. He was a work of art. I was enraptured.


	5. Chapter 5

_November 23, 2005  
Time has become more than irrelevant..._

"This assignment is extremely important, not only for your semester grade but for your future."

I puffed out my cheeks, crossed my eyes and started quietly humming the theme song to Green Acres.

"It will teach you the many responsibilities and compromises involved in parenthood and marriage."

Green Acres turned into the Oscar Mayer Weiner song, and the cuticle on my right pointer finger became very fascinating.

"Hopefully, it will help you make slightly more informed decisions about sex and relationships at your current age."

I bit off my cuticle and got a speck of blood on my notebook. The speck was shaped a lot like Jimmy Carter.

"You and your partners will make a Life Plan. You'll pick careers out of the Career Box, find a living quarters from the newspaper, and create a budget. The budget _must_ include education expenses for your child simulation."

If Jimmy Carter had married Sponge Bob Squarepants...well that would have been weird.

"Here are your partners..."

I was partnered with Dougie. Life was getting ironically ironic. God I fucking hate irony.

Even though he tricked me into accepting his pathetic apology, although I would have melted to him eventually anyway, I was still extremely hurt. He lied to me and ditched me on our birthday to have sex with his stupid little girlfriend. Apparently, it was her gift to him for his eighteenth birthday. What. A. Whore.

A ball of paper hit me on the head and landed on my desk, abolishing poor Jimmy and squashing my dreams of a yellow crustacean president. I looked up and saw Dougie smiling at me from across the room. I smiled back and uncrumpled the paper.

**should we get sacrificial seed for big bird? i'd like a good crop this year. BTW its not thursday wink wink**

A slow smile spread itself across my face and I glanced at Dougie. He was making a very suggestive hand gesture that made me blush horribly. He shot me a wink and grinned cheekily. I laid my head down on my desk to hide my face and tried to remember the pledge of allegiance.

_Lunch_

"So, do we get to name the baby?" Dougie dangled the plastic doll in front of his face and cocked his head to the side, studying it. There was a rather amusing look of confusion and slight terror on his face. It made me smile.

"Yea, of course." I answered and went back to writing down the address of the apartment we had picked from the housing section. Dougie set the doll in the grass in front of him and carefully undid the Velcro jumpsuit it wore. He pulled the suit around the dolls ankles and stared at it's naked body.

"What the fuck are you doing, Doug?" Danny snorted, his own doll laying carelessly discarded in his back pack behind him.

"I'm checking it for a dick, stupid." Dougie scoffed, as if it should have been obvious.

"And?" Tom chuckled. He had dumped his doll on his partner in the library when it started crying hysterically. Diougie frowned and redressed our baby.

"It sure as hell isn't a boy."

"Then we're naming it Winnifred." I said simply. Everyone turned to look at me.

"Winnifred?" Danny repeated mockingly, as if the name tasted sour. I had been writing but I looked up slowly and nodded.

"Yes, Winnifred Agnes."

"Winnifred Agnes Poynter." Tom toppled over in amusement as he spoke, "That's fucking beautiful."

"Damn Charlotte, your kid's gonna get her snack pack stolen." Danny shook his head and took a bite out of his apple. I curled my upper lip at them and rolled my eyes.

"Well I like it, Char." Dougie smiled smugly at the other guys and dropped an arm around my shoulders. I glanced at him and smiled.

"Thank you, Doug."

"Ooo Dougie-Pie to the rescue. Look at you being all chivalrous and shit." Tom sneered. He ripped open a bag of Cheetos.

"Fucking-a right." Dougie nodded his head authoritatively, "I'm a father now, chivalry comes with the package."

"Does bad hair and a voice that causes entire cities to implode come in that package also?" Danny fluttered his eyelashes at Dougie and picked at the peel on his apple.

Dougie's mouth hung open in shock, "Well at least I write my own lyrics, biznatch."

I chuckled as Tom made a sizzling sound indicating the severity of Dougie's burn. It was funny, even though the two, without each other's talents, would probably be little to nothing. Then came a strange whining sound from near Dougie's crotch.

"Uh, Dougie..." I began.

"Dougie, switching the ending words to phrases from Dr. Seuss does _not_ qualify as 'your own lyrics'." Danny leaned forward. Tom gave Danny a high-five, showing his lack of loyalty to either side. The noise came again, and I looked at our baby. Dougie had it tucked in his lap, stuck between his thighs so that in order to take it I would have to chance touching his...down-there area. I cleared my throat.

"Dougie the ba--"

"Don't hate, don't hate." Dougie's voice hitched up with his attempt at ghetto, "I see how it is. You can go right ahead and sing my songs but giving me some well do credit is beneath you?"

"Psh, you think you're the shit because you can rhyme."

I tugged on Dougie's sleeve, "Dougie, the baby is--"

"At least I _can_ rhyme."

"Cat and Hat haven't counted since the second grade."

"Well excuse me, your Highness." Dougie's voice was rank with playful resentment, "If you don't like my lyrics by all means write your own."

"For real, Doug--"

"Maybe I will." Danny mocked Dougie's childish manner.

"Do--"

"Fine."

"I--"

"Fine."

"_**Il bambino fucking sta gridando, Dougie!"**_ I shouted.

Dougie's attention snapped to me. A flash of well contained "excitement" passed over his features, then a look of confusion took over, "Wait, what?"

"The baby is fucking crying, Dougie." I pointed to his lap. He looked even more confused for a second before he looked down and gasped.

"Oh!" He scooped up the screaming doll and stared at it, "Uh...I...here." He handed it to Danny.

"Dude, I'm not your partner!" Danny squealed and held the doll at arms length as if were going to bite him. Of course it's simulated crying was very life like and getting even higher in pitch. I groaned and reached out to take the baby. I cradled it in my arms and shushed it, singing very softly and rocking it back and forth. After a few long minutes of nothing but the boys silence and my very Disney-esque mothering tactics, the doll stopped screaming and went into sleep mode. I looked up at the faces of all three boys staring at me. Tom looked creeped out and Danny looked shocked, but the look on Dougie's face was something I really couldn't place. There was an odd little smile and his eyes gave an unusual sparkle. It made my stomach flip and fill up with nervous butterflies.

"That was...scary." Tom shuddered, "Char acting all maternal was enough to give me nightmares for life."

I was too busy staring back at Dougie to send him a glare or flick him off.

"I never would've thought...it just went right to sleep." Danny was still staring at the doll, "I mean I had to smash mine against my locker to shut it the fuck up."

"You're just parentally challenged." Tom popped a Cheeto into his mouth, "Or it hates you." Then he glanced at me again and visibly shuddered.

Dougie's smile grew into a toothy grin, "That was so cool, Charlotte." He said softly.

"Cool?" I repeated. The way he was smiling at me was making me shake.

"Yea. I've never seen that side of you."

"Well I'm not surprised. How many babies has she had to silence?" Tom said sarcastically. He chewed thoughtfully on his food then shook his head, "God, am I the only one thoroughly disturbed by that whole thing?"

There was a short silence before Dougie answered with a faint nod, "Yeah."

_Saturday_

Two days later I stood on the sidelines, cradling little Winnifred Agnes to my chest and ignoring her cries as I screamed encouragement to Dougie until my throat hurt. I couldn't hear her over the rest of the crowd anyways, they were all yelling and jumping up and down with excitement as our high school soccer team scored goal after goal after goal against the neighboring town.

"Go Peter Pan!" I shouted, and leapt into the air as he kicked the ball into the net once again, nearly dropping Winnifred.

"That's terrible parenting." Danny commented from beside me. I glared at him.

"At least I know where my baby is. " I shot back. Danny hadn't touched his doll since the day we were given the assignment. Luckily for him, he had an obsessive compulsive control freak named Emily for a partner and hadn't been asked to take part anyway.

"Summer has me paying child support." He said with a shrug. I shifted the doll in my arms and attempted to shoot him a questioning look without taking my eyes off of Dougie on the field. He had the ball again and was barreling toward the goalie, looking very hot all sweaty and determined I might add. Someone from the other team got in his way so he passed the ball to Tom, who shot it swiftly into the net. Danny and I erupted with cheers along with the rest of the crowd. I tried to clap, and Winnifred slid out of my arm. I caught her by the ankle making her break out into an ear splitting wail.

"Fuck." I muttered and started patting her back and shushing her. Danny took a moment to remove his sweatshirt carefully; probably so his Tic Tac's wouldn't tumble out of the pocket. It was auspiciously warm out that day, perfect for the game, and everyone was clad in t-shirts and some were even in shorts, Danny had only worn a sweatshirt so he could hide his bloodshot eyes with his hood until they cleared up.

He set it aside on the ground by his feet and cupped his mouth to shout at Dougie, Kyle, and Tom, "Go, mother fuckers! Pandoseph!" He whooped loudly in my ear then turned to me, "Emily likes yellow gummy bears."

"What?"

"Every day I buy a bag of gummy bears and pick out all the yellow ones. That's my child support payments."

"Sounds like a lot of gummy bears." I turned around to dig through my messenger bag behind me and pulled out the electronic bottle. I pressed it against Winnifred's mouth to "feed" her.

"It is." Danny stared down at the quieted baby with what I can only describe as pure fear, "But it's worth it."

"You're such a loser, Dan." I sighed.

"That's my baby!" Dougie shouted from the field. I looked up to see him dancing around in the middle of the field, pointing at me. I felt a slow but fierce blush creep up my neck and glanced around at all the people now staring at me. Some looked very judgmental, probably assuming the feeding bundle in my arms was a real baby. I waved quickly at Dougie who blew me a kiss and took off after the ball.

"It's all he talks about lately." A woman's voice said behind me. I turned around to see Dougie's mom smiling at me.

"Hi, Mrs. Poynter. How are you?"

"Fantastic, Charlotte. Hello Daniel."

Danny smiled and looked away to hide the redness in his eyes. Dougie's mom didn''t even notice.

"Dougie's absolutely smitten with the idea of you being the mother of his baby."

I felt the blush intensify and I glanced down at Winnifred, "Really?" I laughed to cover my nervous excitement.

"Yea, he keeps telling me how you're a natural. How he thinks you look so beautiful when you sing to it. I mean I keep having to remind him that it's just a pretend assignment for class and that you're not really married." She laughed, "Although I will say the thought does have it's appeal for me as well." She gave me a quick wink.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't remove the massive grin from my face. The crowd, once again, went up in a simultaneous cheer and I shot a look to the game to see Dougie with his arms in the air, turning away from the goal. Tom and Kyle along with some other teammates ran up to him and slammed their stomachs together or leant their foreheads against each other's and screamed. Boys are strange creatures.

"So where's Dougie's dad?" I asked, turning back to his mom with a smile. The look of happy contentment faltered on her face for a fraction of a second before she answered.

"He couldn't make it." She said softly, and covered the awkward answer with a cheer, "Go Doug!" She hollered. Dougie turned mid jog and waved at her, not missing a beat in the game. I studied his mother for a minute before brushing off the weird, sick feeling I got when she told me he "couldn't make it". Dougie's dad never missed his games. Granted he was a very competitive father and didn't always give the most encouraging comments from the stands, I knew he was proud of Dougie and it was very strange not having him there. Danny nudged my side and when I looked over he gave me a questioning look. He didn't like this either.

We won the game, more than double the opposing team's points, and the group of us went out to eat to celebrate.

"You guys were so great today." Leah gushed and pressed a kiss to Tom's cheek. He, Dougie and Kyle were all sticky and smelled like sweat and mud. But I didn't protest when Dougie squished into the booth with me and Danny, pressed against me, his bare knee touching my covered one. In fact I was more than happy for the hot, sticky contact.

"Thanks, baby." Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she immediately pushed it off.

"Okay, Tom I love you and all, but you stink."

"Ouch." He stuck out his bottom lip and leaned on the table. We all laughed and I pretended not to notice when Dougie put his lips around the straw of my peppermint milkshake.

"Dude, it was a really kick ass game though." Danny said, popping a French fry into his mouth.

"Yea that means nothing coming from you, stoner boy." Kyle joked. Danny stopped, mid bite, a fry hanging out of his mouth and stared at Kyle.

"I resent that." He mumbled, "I was only _slightly_ high."

"Yea guys, geez, cut him some slack." I defended him.

"Thanks, Charlotte." He said.

"You're welcome." I dipped a fry in Dougie's chocolate milkshake and ate it, "I mean, if he needs to smoke a little every now and then to calm his nerves, its no big deal, ya know it's really hard being vertically challenged, isn't it Dan?" I smiled at him. Everyone burst into laughter but Danny, who just stared at me, open mouthed.

"I'll remember that, Charlotte Marie Reloveano."

"Ooo he busted out the full name on you, Char, I think that means it's serious." Tom laughed.

"As serious as a gastric bypass." Danny did a ghetto head bob and snapped his fingers. All I could do was snort and laugh so hard my stomach hurt.

"Char, don't spewk." Leah reached across the table and patted my head.

"Yea, Char, just breathe." Kyle laughed. I finally finished laughing and sat up, wiping at the tears that had formed in the corners of my eyes. I turned and looked at Dougie, who was smiling at me. He wiggled his eyebrows and winked suggestively.

"Do I get a congratulatory kiss?" He asked. I let out a strangled, nervous laugh.

"Right, Dougie."

"So that's a no?"

"That's a hell no." I picked up a French fry to distract myself from the cute pouty look he was giving me.

"Come on, Char, you know you want to."

Ha, you don't know how right you are.

"Oh give him a kiss, Charlotte." Tom took a large bite of his burger, "It's your duty as the best friend."

"Yea in the absence of the girlfriend, you take over all the girlfriendy things." Kyle helped encourage. Despite the fact that Dougie and I had officially put that whole birthday fiasco behind us, I still didn't like the mention of Alice.

"Like congratulatory kisses." Leah joined in. I glanced at Danny, who shrugged and busied himself with the napkin holder.

"Okay, fuck them, fuck Alice, fuck best friend duties." Dougie shifted so that he leaned on the table slightly in front of me, "I just want to kiss you."

Those words will forever be branded into my brain.

I stared at Dougie and blinked. It was all I could do not to forget to breathe. I swallowed the lump that had quickly formed in my throat when my heart leapt out of my chest, and gave a weak nod. Dougie's lips twisted into a satisfied and slightly cheeky smile as he leaned forward and kissed me softly.

It was very chaste, our lips just sort of rested against each other's. But it was amazing. And it lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. When Dougie didn't almost immediately pull away, our table let out a slow cat call. They started wooting and whistling and clapping. A smile cracked on both of our faces and Dougie pulled away.

"Well now." Tom wore a broad, smug grin as he clapped his hands slowly, "That was intense."

"Oh, shut up, Tom." Leah scolded playfully, "Leave them alone." She had whispered the last part to him, and she was giving us this look like she knew something the rest of them didn't. I caught her eyes for a split second and blushed madly.

Way to give yourself away, Charlotte..

Dougier got very quiet the rest of the night, and although he didn't directly make eye contact with me even once, I caught him staring at me numerous times. There was something disconcerting about the look in his eyes. He looked kind of scared and confused. He had never looked at me that way before, and it made me very nervous.

_**That Night 2:00 AM**_

_Ring_

"No, please don't take my poodle..."

_Ring_

"I swear I won't eat the Jell-O anymore..."

_Ring_

"Eight spiders..."

**WAAAAAAAAAA**

"AHHHH!!" I sat upright and glanced around frantically. My eyes landed on the screaming baby on the floor beside my dresser. I let out a long sigh, "Oh fuck me Freddy."

_Ring_

I looked at the phone beside my bed. Then at my clock, "Freddy fuck me sideways."

**WAAAAAAAAAA**

"Yeah, I'm coming ho--"

_Ring_

"Alright, alright, kee--"

**WAAAAAAAAA**

"ARGH!" I screamed and flopped back on my bed. I listened to the wailing and the phone for five more seconds before I grabbed my pillow and flung it across the room to hit the doll. Then I rolled sideways and ripped the phone from the hook.

**WAAAAAAAAA**

"Shut the _**fuck**_ up!" I shouted at the doll.

"Charlotte?" Came the voice on the other end.

"Sorry, Dougie, that fucking baby is screaming again." I rolled out of bed and staggered across to the doll. I scooped it up and started bouncing it up and down and pacing across the room.

"It's all good." He sighed. I paused in my pacing, but didn't say anything. I could hear Dougie breathing but neither of us said a word. The baby began to settle down and only a soft, hiccupping coo emanated from the rubber bundle in my arms. The sudden silence was freaky.

"Doug, are you alright?" I asked slowly. There was an extended pause and if I hadn't heard him shift I would have thought he had hung up. "Dougie?"

"No, yeah, I'm alright." He said quickly, "I just...hey I'll see ya tomorrow, Char. Let's go to the park with Winnifred, okay?"

I frowned, "Sure."

"Bye, Charbear."

"Bye, Dougie."

_Click_

_Dial Tone_


	6. Chapter 6

_Sunday_

The next day, the sky was gray and the air was cool. It whipped my long hair behind me and across my face so I was constantly squinting and tucking it behind my ears. Dougie had come over at nine and woken me up by simply standing over me until I opened my eyes and screamed. Then he let me get dressed and made me promise to spend the entire day with him. I tugged on a pair of old worn out, holey blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt advertising the coffee shop I worked at two years ago. I barely had time to dig Winnifred out of the pile of blankets at the foot of my bed before Dougie shoved me out the door.

We walked slowly across the grass at the park, Dougie was holding Winnifred and playing with her absently, probably as a distraction from whatever was wrong with him. And something was definitely wrong. He wasn't his usual self and it was really bothering me. Beside the fact that he was just down right depressing me with his overly calm and passive attitude, but he wasn't offering over what the problem was, and that hurt.

There weren't very many people playing at the park. A few kids on the jungle gym and in the sandbox. An elderly couple sitting on a bench and throwing bread crumbs at nonexistent pigeons. A mother and a father reclining in the grass and watching their children running and squealing around the playground. These were things that Dougie usually commented on. He always loved to people watch, and try to decipher what was going on in their heads and in their lives just by their body language. It had always excited him, but that day he wasn't saying anything. He just stared down at the fake baby in his arms and walked slowly beside me, almost as if he was oblivious to my presence.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore, so I veered toward the swing set, hoping to catch his attention. Dougie veered with me, not really acknowledging the fact that we veered, but veering just the same. I sat on a swing, and he took his place in the one beside me, rocking slowly and still focused on the doll. I studied his profile carefully; he wasn't smiling but he wasn't frowning. His expression was vacant and somehow that told me he wasn't _really_ focused on the doll. I had had my suspicions from the beginning, but the faraway look in his eyes confirmed it.

"Quarter for your thoughts." I said casually. He looked up and cocked an eyebrow.

"It's a penny."

"I think you're worth more than a penny." I said with a shrug. That made him smile and he looked back at Winnifred.

"I'm just tired." He said slowly, expressionlessly, as if it was simply a programmed response. I knew he was covering up something, but I also got the feeling that it wasn't time for me to pry any deeper.

I reached over and put my hand on his back, "It's okay, Dougie."

He shut his eyes briefly, squeezing them closed tightly. I knew he was holding back something, some overwhelming emotion that he didn't want me to see just yet. I rubbed his back slowly and eventually he opened his eyes and looked at me and smiled.

He just looked at me for the longest time. His eyes flickering over my face every few seconds.

"You look really pretty today." He said softly, slowly. Like he wasn't sure how I would take what he was saying, or maybe he wasn't even sure how he _meant_ it. It didn't matter how he meant it though, not to me. Because it was all I needed to make my day.

I smiled and cleared my throat, "Yeah well I always look my best when I get three hours of sleep and don't wear makeup."

"You only got three hours of sleep?" Dougie asked, furrowing his brow with concern.

"Mhm, being a single parent is harder than it looks on The Nanny."

"You're not a single parent!" Dougie shouted, completely insulted with the insinuation that he was no help. I shrugged.

"Face it, Poynter, you're a dead beat dad." I joked. Dougie didn't respond. Instead his face fell a little and he looked at the doll in his hands. My smile quickly slipped from my face and I stared at him, wondering what had made him so sad so suddenly.

"Doug? I'm sorry." I said. Dougie shook his head slowly.

"For what?" His voice held very little emotion, but the tiny bit it _did_ show, was desperate and sad. It made my stomach flip and my eyes burn.

"For whatever I said that made you sad." I whispered helplessly. I absolutely hated seeing him this way. I know no one ever _likes_ to see their best friend's sad, but there really, truly is nothing else in the entire world that I hate more than Dougie Poynter's sadness. Someone so amazing doesn't deserve to feel that way, ever.

He looked up at me, then back to Winnifred. He brushed a hand over the doll's tiny face and sighed, "I don't wanna be like that." He said softly. I cocked my head to the side and leaned forward.

"Like what, Dougie?"

"Like..." He stopped, his mouth poised mid-word, and gently hugged the doll to his chest. He held it for a few silent minutes, his eyes closed and a very indescribable look on his face. Then he opened them and set the doll in his lap. He looked up and across the park at the children playing, "Never mind."

A little piece of me died inside. Something was horribly wrong with Dougie and he wouldn't tell me what it was. I couldn't help but feel guilty for some reason. Like I had done something to make him think he couldn't open up to me anymore, to make him think I would judge him or something. I opened my mouth to beg him to reconsider finishing his thought when little Winnifred erupted in loud, choking sobs. Dougie jumped and looked at the doll in his lap.

"What does she want?" He laughed and glanced at me. He sounded strangely nervous and much too concerned about the doll's well being. I took a second to recover from the heart wrenching feeling that had recently washed over me before answering.

"She's hungry."

"Well, here's my chance to go against my nature, eh?" He said with a forced laugh. I didn't read very far into his response, but only because I didn't know where to begin trying. It was like he was speaking a different language and all of my intuition was lost in translation.

Dougie looked over at me expectantly, "Can I feed her?" He asked slowly when I didn't immediately respond. I gasped and patted the pocket of my sweatshirt.

"Shit I didn't bring her bottle!"

Dougie broke into a grin and laughed. He stood up, pulling me with him and wrapped me in a tight hug, leaving the doll resting on the swing; for the moment forgotten. The hug lasted a long time. It was very, _very_ welcome, and it gave me a serene sort of feeling that everything would be okay. When Dougie pulled away he laughed and reached for Winnifred.

"Come on, Char." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a half squeeze as we started walking; but as we reached the edge of the park, his arm slipped down and I felt a sudden and thrilling shiver rip through me as his fingers entwined themselves with mine. I smiled to myself and began singing the theme song to The Nanny.

_Friday_

The entire week went exactly the same. Dougie was constantly in my company. He came to my house in the morning before school, he stayed over after school until very late, and he wouldn't let little Winnifred out of his sight. _And_ he was still vaguely sad. He wouldn't outright tell me anything was wrong, but I could feel it, and I could see it in his eyes. It was killing me.

That morning, Dougie was hovering over my shoulder as I gathered my school stuff and tried to dress Winnifred. It was the end of the project and we had to turn her in today for "inspection". The teacher would hook her up to a computer and she would tell her how we treated her. I was hoping she forgot about the time I dropped her down the stairs.

"You can't dress her in _that_." Dougie scoffed from behind me. I sighed and turned around.

"Why not? What's wrong with it?" I looked down at the blue dress I was slipping her into and back to Dougie. He groaned and pushed me aside to remove the dress.

"Its ugly. And this is her last day alive, she has to look perfect." He sounded extremely worried about the doll. I stared at him as he dug through the pile of baby clothes we had scrounged up for the duration of the project.

"It's a doll, Dougie. It doesn't care."

"I know it's a doll, Charlotte." He growled over his shoulder, "But _I_ care." He finished putting her into a light yellow jumper and smiled. "There, beautiful."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're all there upstairs." I reached around him and picked up the bottle, tapping on the side of his head as I did so. He just shot me a glare and leaned down to pick up his backpack.

"So sue me for taking this seriously." He said bitterly. I stopped stuffing baby accessories into my bag.

"Don't you think you're taking it a little _too_ seriously? It's just a class project, it's not real."

"That doesn't make it less important." He reasoned tiredly, "I mean, this is supposed to be like practice for our future. If I fucked this up then...I don't wanna fuck up in real life, Charbear. Not with something as special as my own daughter."

I stared at him thoughtfully. I didn't understand why this doll meant so much to him all of the sudden. Why was he making such a big deal out of this pretend child we had? Out of being a father? It was so unlike Dougie to take anything school related, besides soccer, so seriously. But as freaky as it was, it was also very sweet.

I looked down at the doll, away from the slightly sad and pleading look Dougie was giving me. She did look cute in her little yellow jumper. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"You're right, that looks much better than the blue one." I said, picking her up, "She looks beautiful."

Dougie smiled widely and stepped toward me. He reached out and touched the doll affectionately, "Beautiful like her mother." He said softly. My eyes flicked immediately to his face, meeting his in an awkward lock as he realized how weird that must've sounded. I wanted to, tried to, say something, but all that came out was an embarrassing crack as my suddenly dry throat attempted to press sound through. Dougie wasted no time increasing the intensity of the bizarre moment as he dipped his head down to catch my lips in a brief, tender kiss. It was so quick and so careful, like a very first kiss in junior high. As if he didn't know what he was doing at all, which could very well have been the truth considering the circumstances. My eyes didn't have a chance to close, but as Dougie drew back I saw his flicker open and he scanned my face for some kind of reaction. I just stared at him, my mouth hung open slightly and my eyes were wide with shock. Dougie took my silent, stunned expression as a bad sign and immediately retreated back into himself. He shrunk away from me and turned toward the door.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte." He mumbled and cleared his throat as he swung around the doorframe. I stood stock still and staring after him as I listened to him bound quickly down the stairs. All I could think about was the feeling of his lips against mine for the second time that week. And both times he had gotten weird about it. Although, I had to admit, this was much different from the first time. Dougie had kissed me, seriously kissed me. It was shy and careful, but he wasn't just being a perverted goofball about it. It was a dead serious, teen-movie moment. And I fucking ruined it by being a stupid little girl.

"When I call your names, bring your child simulation to the front and I'll check it's memory database." The teacher stood at her desk and stared at us over the top of her glasses. I glanced at Dougie, he was staring at the doll in his lap again as if it was a real baby that he had gotten attached to. We hadn't spoken a word to each other besides a casual, "ready for class?" or "do you have all the info for our budget and stuff?" It was a little unnerving, because even though I knew he had gotten the wrong impression by my reaction, I didn't know how to get back into the moment. I figured it was long gone and I had missed it.

"It's just a doll, Dougie." I whispered carefully, knowing how he felt but knowing at the same time that it _was_ just a doll. He would get over it, right?

"I know that." He sighed, "I just...I don't know, Char, it was nice. Ya know? Being a father. It was kinda comforting, like I was _needed_. I liked the responsibility."

I smiled and shot a quick look over at Danny who was twitching with the anticipation of handing in the doll and ending the project. I laughed, "I think you're pretty much alone in that theory."

Dougie shrugged, "Maybe." Then he nodded, "Yea, I think so too."

I opened my mouth to console him, because he seemed to take that realization to heart, when our names were called. I looked up at the teacher then at Dougie who hadn't moved.

"Doug, it's time." I said softly. He bit his lip and stood up slowly. We walked to the front of the room and he reluctantly handed the doll over to the teacher. She unbuttoned the back of it's jumper and stuck the key into the small hole on it's lower back. Dougie sucked in a quick breath as she opened it up and plugged in the chord that transferred the memory information to her computer. She mused over the readings on the screen for a moment before smiling and making a checkmark in her book.

"Well done." She said as she unattached our baby from the computer. We turned around and headed back to our seats. Dougie slumped down very low and began scribbling on his notebook.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He didn't look at me as he nodded. I sighed and reached over to pinch him.

"Ow! Charlotte, what the fuck?" He hissed. I glared at him and shook my head.

"Stop lying to me, Doug, I know something is wrong with you." I scolded softly, "When this project started you were just as indifferent about it as me, but all the sudden you went all The Hand That Rocks The Cradle on me. It's a freaking doll, Dougie. What gives?" I gave him the most meaningful look I could and he stared back at me, doing the best impression of incredulous disbelief I had ever seen. I made a pouty face at him, which made the corners of his mouth twitch upward, but he didn't crack. I groaned and flopped back in my seat, "Fine, play the fucking martyr. What-ev." I used my valley-girl voice and inwardly I grinned when I caught the snort from beside me.

"You're such a dork." Dougie whispered, still not looking at me.

"Like I said, what. Ev."

"Like I said, dor. K."

I gave him a slow, snotty look but said nothing. The teacher had clapped her hands abruptly to get our attention and was going on about how proud she was of some of us, while others had failed miserably and should never be allowed to reproduce. As I turned to the front, feigning paying attention, I could sense Dougie's eyes on me, and it was all I could do not to look at him and mouth "I love you."


	7. Chapter 7

_Later That Afternoon_

There was a big test on African culture in World Geography class. A class the whole five of us had last period. Five because Leah happened to be a junior. So she sat quietly reading some magazine while the rest of us crammed our brains full of unnecessary facts about the Nigerian economy and Kenyan pop music. The only thing I really learned was that, if I lived in Nairobi, I would never be fat. I mean, seriously, it's beautiful there. Warm, sunny, and the shelves at the grocery store are chalk full of fruit. I would walk everywhere because it would be so nice and eat tons of fruit so I would be healthy and thin and happy. I told the rest of the little study group that, and everyone but Dougie laughed. Dougie told me I was being dumb and that just living in Nairobi wouldn't keep me from getting fat. He said he would never live there because people were still oppressed there. Dougie said that I would hate the heat, because I'm fair skinned and burn easily.

I told Dougie to shut up.

"Charlotte, stop acting like a first grader." Dougie spat, shaking his head and turning the page in his text book. I glanced around the circle, everyone looked up nervously, obviously uncomfortable with the awkwardly hostile tone he was taking with me.

"Dougie, stop acting like a jackass." I shot back. Dougie looked up slowly and gave me the dirtiest look I have ever seen.

"I'm not being a jackass, I'm just sick of listening to your delusions."

"_My_ delusions?" My voice squeaked with my indignant shock, "What about your delusions? You were getting so attached to that stupid doll I thought I was gonna have to pry you away from it with a crowbar."

"Fuck you, Charlotte." Dougie got up, tossing his book to the ground and started walking away. I didn't even bother shooting my shocked expression to the others, I didn't care whether or not they thought he was being irrational. All I cared about was why he had suddenly gone hulk on me. I stomped after him across the campus lawn and caught his arm.

"Don't walk away from me, Dougie!" I shouted. He spun around and glared at me.

"You had to bring the doll into it didn't you?" He said. I was taken aback at his question and stumbled over something to say. Dougie shook his head and continued, "I told you why I liked that doll."

"Yeag, you said you liked the responsibility, and you felt needed, and you wanted the practice." I counted off on my fingers, "But _why_? You're eighteen years old, Dougie, you aren't supposed to want _that_ kind of responsibility yet. And you've never, ever been like this before." I let out a long breath and licked my lips, pleading with him, "You're so...morose. It's not like you to be so serious."

Dougie's angry expression melted and he looked away from me, "So that's what you think of me as? A fucking fool? A clown?"

"No!" I insisted, "Dougie...I have never seen you that way. But this is just _too_ serious. _Too_ different. It's scaring me."

He sucked in a quick breath and ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. He looked nervous, and I could tell he was shaking.

"Just tell me what's wrong." I whispered desperately. Dougie's eyes shot to my face nervously. He let out a slightly hysterical laugh and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.

"What _isn't_ wrong?" He asked softly, almost inaudibly, like it wasn't really meant for me to hear. I just watched him shift uncomfortably for a minute before I stepped forward and tried to touch his shoulder. He flinched from my touch and stepped back.

Inside, my stomach dropped and my whole body broke out in an instantaneous cold sweat. I could feel myself shake with a sick confusion and I covered my face to stop myself from breaking down into heaving sobs.

"I'm sorry, Char." He said. I looked up at him from between my fingers and blinked back tears at the utterly forlorn look on his adorable face. I dragged my hands down my cheeks and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"It's okay." My voice croaked out, "But, please, explain the whole doll thing to me ag--"

"For the love of fucking God, Cha--"

"I'm sorry I care about your feelings, Dougie! I'm sorry I give a flying fuck what's wrong with y--"

"Don't you fucking pull that!" Dougie shouted, whirling away from me, "Don't you fucking put me through a guilt trip!"

I clutched my hands to my chest as my devastated emotions beat me and choking sob escaped my throat, "Dougie, why are you yelling at me?" I sobbed at him, beseechingly, "What did I do?"

Dougie's face fell the second the tears sprang forth and he flinched forward, as if he wanted to console me but thought better of it. His mouth opened and closed then he ran a hand through his hair and over his face, "You didn't do anything." He said quietly.

I shook my head and swallowed a sob, "Then, please, tell me what's wrong." I waited for him to reply, but he only peered at me from above his hand which was covering his mouth as he stared back at me. I took a step closer, "Doug, I'm your best friend--"

"I know you're my best frie--"

"Well? I can help you!" My voice was straining against my vocal chords as it hit pitches I didn't know existed in my desperation.

"No you can't!" Dougie shouted back, his own voice sounding cramped and forced. I closed my eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to break the surface.

"Dougie!" I wailed. Dougie had turned away from me, but as his name left my lips with so much pleading and so much worry, he spun back and took a menacing step toward me.

"He left, Charlotte! My dad fucking left, he's gone!" He shouted, his voice cracking. Dougie's hands shifted through his hair and tugged angrily on the red bangs that hung in his eyes. My chest began to ache and I tasted bile in my throat. I strange sort of fluttery panic rose in the pit of my stomach and I twitched.

There was a long, extended silence before I managed to find a sliver of my voice, "...What do you mean?" I asked softly, the words barely making it out my mouth.

"He left!" Dougie yelled, "He just walked out on us. Just...walked out of the house as if there wasn't anything there to begin with. Like he didn't even care." He paused, "They've always been dysfunctional...but they were fighting more than usual..." He trailed off and his gaze shifted across the courtyard.

I stared at him for the longest time, trying to fully comprehend what he was telling me, "When?"

Dougie took in a heavy breath and let it out sharply. He wouldn't look at me, instead his eyes stayed fixed on his sneakers. He was still tugging roughly on his hair, probably to distract himself from the pain in his heart. His eyes were red and welling up, and he remained silent until he had gotten his tear ducts under control.

"Last Saturday. They had this big argument because he was working instead of watching me play. I told her it didn't matter...it was one game...I told her I didn't care, but...but she made a big fucking deal out of it and now he's gone."

Last Saturday. His parents fought because his dad wasn't at the game last Saturday? I had spoken to his mother, and she seemed so upset. But I hadnt thought anything like this would happen. I took in a shaking breath and looked away from him. And he called me that night, that strange, un-Dougie-like phone call. I had known something was wrong.

But this was so unreal, this kind of thing only happens on TV, on Lifetime movies or Dawson's Creek. I knew Dougie's dad, he loved Dougie. He wasn't an affectionate father, but I knew he loved him. How couldn't he? I struggled against tears that slowly beat me and crept over my lower eyelids and slid down my cheeks.

"But he wouldn't just--out of the blue like that..." My thought slipped away from me as the severity of the situation was setting in on me. Dougie laughed disdainfully.

"Yes he would. Don't kid yourself, Charlotte. My dad's never been a really spectacular guy." He paused and the frightening, sickeningly humored expression on his face faded and was replaced with an overwhelmingly sad dawning of realization. "I guess he just got tired of being miserable." He whispered.

I wanted to hug him, to wrap him up in my arms and make all of his doubts and his worries and his ridiculous guilt go away. I could see it in his eyes and read it in his body language. He felt responsible for his dad leaving, and that wasn't fair. He didn't deserve that. But at the same time, the magnitude of his words was much too heavy for my puny heart. I knew what he meant. People can only pretend to be happy as they are, with the way their life is, for so long before the degree of their own discontentment overwhelms them. Sometimes, you just get tired of pretending. I knew exactly what he meant, because I was doing the exact same thing when it came to Dougie.

I let out a long sigh, "We all do." I said softly. Dougie's eyes flickered to me and hovered level with my own. We held each other's gaze, sharing a mutual feeling of understanding. I understood, now, his strange parenting behavior. I knew what he meant when he said it was his chance to go against his nature. He was afraid that he was going to be like his own dad, and let his child down. Dougie was so young, he shouldn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And Dougie understood that there wasn't anything to be afraid of with me. He knew that I wouldn't be angry or pitying. He knew I would be exactly what he needed. And I think he understood what I meant when I confirmed his theory about people's tolerance for their own unhappiness. I wasn't condoning his father's actions, I was accepting the sad truth that we all feel that way.

We both blinked and looked away from each other. I wiped at a piece of hair that had clung to my wet cheeks, "So he just...walked out."

"Yeah." Dougie let out a long, slow, tired breath, "And he's not coming back."

A new sting of tears hit the back of my eyes and my throat at the sound of his bleak words, "How do you know that?" I asked, almost angrily. How could he afford to be so fucking hopeless?

Dougie groaned and lifted his face to the sky, "Because I saw it in his eyes, Char, I saw it on his face and in his eyes...when I begged him to stay." He laughed scornfully, and I heard not only hate and resentment in his words, but longing. And it was the voice of a small child, lost and afraid. Dougie rubbed at his eyes, "I actually _begged_ that bastard to stay. But he just looked at me...like I was a stranger...and left. His own son! And he wouldn't do it...not even for his own child."

A million thoughts flashed through my mind at lightening speed. The doll, the park, the baby dress. All of the strange things he had been saying to me in the past week kept repeating over and over like a broken record. His reaction to me calling him a dead beat dad, his adamancy about the outfit the doll should wear, his insinuation that this project was more important than I was making it out to be. Everything. I had been so fucking blind.

"I'm so sorry, Dougie." I said. Dougie looked up at me suddenly.

"Do you love me?" He hadn't even missed a beat. I blinked rapidly, slightly shocked at his seemingly random question, and stuttered.

"What?"

Dougie reached forward and grabbed my hand. He held it against his chest, over his heart and stared directly into my eyes, "Do you love me, Charlotte?" He asked again, more slowly. He didn't mean it in a romantic way, he meant it as a vulnerable human being simply craving the affection he had been denied. But he also meant it as my best friend.

"Of course I do, Dougie, I--"

"Say it."

I couldn't break our eye contact, the feeling that was being shared through it was far too intense to look away. I sucked in a sharp breath, "I love you, Doug."

"Really? Because the honest to God truth is that I can't get through this without you." He whispered fiercely, leaning so close I could feel his hot breath hit my face, "I really need you, Charlotte."

The weight of his words hit me like a million ton brick. My breath hitched in my lungs and butterflies filled my stomach. I swallowed to calm them, and took a long, careful cleansing breath before opening my mouth to respond.

"Okay." Was all I managed, "Okay."

That Night: 7:30

Dougie was asleep in my bed, I was pacing around my kitchen biting my nails and trying not to burst into tears.

My parents were both at work, and as irrational as it may have been, I was panicking. My dad worked a lot, and chances were he wouldn't be home for hours anyway, but the anticipation of whether or not he would even come home at all was absolutely terrifying me.

I was being ridiculous, I'm fully aware of that fact. And it's not like I was afraid he didn't love me, I was just really freaking out, I knew that he would come home and that my dad loved me. But it made me desperately sad to think that the same couldn't be said for Dougie.

I listened with overly anxious anticipation to the ringing emanating from the receiver. I chewed on my fingernails and my eyes darted nervously back and forth across the room. Finally the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" A light female voice answered. I let out an anxious sigh.

"Is Charles Reloveano available?" I asked. The finger I had been gnawing on had started to bleed around the cuticle. I slid my hand under my thigh to keep myself from chewing anymore and bursting a blood vessel or something.

"No, he's out of the office right now, may I take a message?"

I tapped my foot sporadically and began chewing on my lip, "Um, no...that's alright, it isn't important." I hung up quickly and tried to focus all of my attention on the crooked picture frame that hung on the wall opposite me. I absolutely hated crooked picture frames, it drove me insane.

Dougie, on the other hand, had no qualms with tacky disorder and thought it was extremely hilarious to watch me scramble around straightening frames. So every chance he got, he would tilt them.

I tried to mentally tilt it back, but unfortunately I still hadn't managed to unlock my inner Matilda. I tried to tell myself that a crooked picture frame was very trivial at that moment, and I should ignore it. But the anal retentive perfectionist part of me got the better of the rest of me and I hurriedly got up and fixed it. I stood and stared at it for the longest time, not really looking at the picture, but my reflection inside of it. I stared long and hard at myself, Dougie's words kept repeating in my mind.

_I guess he just got tired of being miserable._

My own words answered him.

_We all do._

Maybe it wasn't so much a fear of my father leaving as a fear of loosing Dougie. Could I really keep this up forever? Maybe I could, and that was the scary part.

But as soon as that thought floated into my brain it floated back out because the front door opened and my father walked in. I saw him, and a fraction of a millisecond later I had bombarded him with a hug that nearly qualified as a body slam.

"Whoa, Princess, calm down."

I hate it when he calls me Princess.

Yay, my daddy's home!

I reluctantly released him and swallowed my paranoid emotional tears. I felt embarrassed because I knew how stupid I had been acting.

"Sorry, dad. I'm just checking to make sure you still love me." I told him honestly, but he laughed, which was good. I didn't need anyone else knowing how irrational and paranoid I had been.

"Well, let me quickly assure you that, yes, I do still love you and I always will."

Exactly what I needed to hear, Dad. Thank you.

I talked to my dad for an hour before he had to go back to work. We talked about school, college, boys, mom, and finally Dougie. My father asked how he was, if he was dating anyone, how his soccer career was shaping up. I answered everything as honest as I could bring myself to be.

I decidedly left out everything about his dad.

As soon as my dad had pulled back out of the driveway, I made me way slowly up the stairs and down the hall to my room. When I pushed open the door, Dougie was lying on his stomach, hugging one of my pillows. His right leg was draped over the other pillow, and I stifled a laugh at how utterly innocent he looked; his bangs were falling across his forehead, his chin tucked down against his shoulder, and his back rose and fell with each intake of breath.

I watched him silently until he began to stir. I stepped the rest of the way into the room and closed the door behind me as he rolled onto his back and stretched, yawning and gazing at me sleepily.

"Hi." He groaned tiredly. I leaned back against the closed door and smiled shyly.

"Hey la sole."

(Hey there sunshine)

Dougie smiled and his eyes slid closed again. My eyes flickered over his lazy form. One arm was lying on the mattress above his head and the other hand went slowly up and down as it rested on his stomach. I thought he had fallen back asleep, so I turned back around to leave.

"Get over here." His voice drifted after me. I smiled and bit my lip as I shuffled across the floor and crawled onto the bed beside him. I laid on my side facing him, and shortly he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. His eyes met mine and we held each other's gaze for a long time before Dougie broke it with a yawn. Then he focused on the ceiling and rubbed his face.

"Did you have a nice nap?" I asked quietly. He smiled and wiped at the sleep in the corners of his eyes.

"Mmhmm." He mumbled. He faced me again, still on his back, and I reached carefully forward to brush his bangs out of his eyes. Eyes that were staring at something just above my chin.

I felt my stomach flutter as my fingers danced smoothly through his soft hair, and his only reaction was to scoot closer. I slid my hand over the top of his head, the long hairs went between my fingers, and came to a halt at the base of his skull. I could feel the warm skin of the back of his neck as it brushed against the side of my hand, and with a burst of curious confidence I spread my pinky finger outward to caress it softly. Dougie blinked slowly and licked his lips, chewing the bottom one thoughtfully. I felt a shiver shoot through me when his hand made it's way cautiously onto my hip and slid up and down my side slowly, making my body break out in furious goose bumps.

"Charlotte..." Dougie whispered, and something about the way his voice came out; raspy but shaky, made my heart leap into my throat.

"Yea, Doug?" I whispered back. And I knew that the pitch of my voice gave away my nervousness. Dougie's hand left my waist and appeared to cup my cheek softly, his thumb trailing across my jaw line and brushing languidly over my lips.

"Why didn't you say anything this morning...when I kissed you." His eyes fluttered over my face and landed on the bedspread beneath us. I saw something in this gesture that I had never seen in Dougie before; I saw an uneasy sort of shy apprehension. The key word; shy.

"You surprised me." I answered truthfully. Dougie blinked rapidly, and his hand found it's way into my hair. I closed my eyes involuntarily at the gentle tickle of his fingertips grazing my scalp. With my eyes still closed I asked him, "At school, when I asked you what was wrong...you said, 'what isn't wrong'." I opened my eyes and met his. My own hand found it's way slowly and deliberately onto his waist. I toyed absently with the hem of his t-shirt, and pretended not to notice the faint blush that appeared on his face when my fingers grazed his skin. "What did you mean?"

Dougie licked his lips slowly and my stomach erupted with nervous and excited butterflies as he wriggled closer to me on the bed and whispered, "I would've thought it was obvious. I mean it's not really wrong, just...really fucking weird and...unexpected." He paused, "I don't know what happened, and I'm fucking scared shitless. But it feels..." His eyes passed quickly over my features, and his expression was one of pure, but surprised, awe, "...Beautiful." He finished.

Now it was my turn to blush.

"Charlotte?" Dougie's whisper had gotten even softer and his fingers grazed my cheek.

"What?" I barely managed to respond. There was a pause, during which the only sound was our quick, short and uneven breathing. It gave away the passion of my long suppressed feelings, and his newly discovered ones, that we were finally letting out.

Dougie ran his hand over my face, the tips of his fingers brushed over my eyelids, my cheeks and my lips.

"I think I'm gonna kiss you again." He said softly, and I distinctly heard his breath hitch a little, exactly like mine. I struggled to take in air, any air, even a tiny miniscule gasp just so I wouldn't faint.

"Okay." I answered him.

Dougie's hand slid on to the side of my neck and he drew my face gently closer. I tried to shut my eyes but I was completely mesmerized by his lips as they inched steadily nearer to my own. I flicked my gaze up to meet Dougie's a split second before our mouth's should have met, and he looked back at me, both of our eyes betraying the absolutely terrifying nervousness we felt as our friendship crept at the speed of our heart beats toward an entirely new level.

But instead of the unmistakable sensation of skin on skin, we were met with a shrill ringing from beside my bed.

_Ring_

We jerked apart violently, as if we had felt electric shocks.

_Ring_

We stared at each other, neither of us daring to move.

_Ring_

Then the song Kelsey filled the room, and Dougie's attention jerked sideways to where his cell phone sat on my bedside table. We both remained motionless for another minute. Then Dougie was the one to break the silence with a sighing laugh that was a very cloudy mixture of relief and regret.

"We should get those." He laughed, running his fingers quickly through my hair. I forced my own laugh and nodded, but even as Dougie rolled over and sat up, I stayed where I was. I squeezed my eyes shut for a split second, mentally screaming in frustration and rage and sadness, because even though somehow I knew that everything had changed, I still wasn't one hundred percent positive that it had truly changed for the better.


	8. Chapter 8

8:15

TV had gotten lame. There were absolutely no shows that could hold my attention for a span of longer than three seconds. Three seconds was exactly how long I stared at each channel before pushing the little rubber button firmly down on the remote. I know, I counted.

I had answered the phone, voice shaking and short of breath, only to stop breathing completely halfway through my greeting. Not because of the confused, lost and stoned Danny who murmured something about pelicans; but because of the quiet, affectionate sigh that came from Dougieas he uttered her name.

I had completely forgotten about her.

I talked to Danny for about ten minutes. More like, he babbled on and on about the many different foods he was thinking about at that moment, and I tried desperately not to listen to Dougie's hushed terms of endearment.

Finally I managed to convince Danny to go with a cheeseburger instead of Chinese on the grounds that a cheeseburger was less likely to upset his stomach and ruin his high. Then I threw myself off of my bed and nearly tripped as I ran out the door and down the stairs. I don't know if Dougie noticed my rabid fleeing, but I don't care either. I flopped down on the couch, covering my face with my hands and taking deep breaths.

"This is okay, Char, it's fine. Everything is just fine." I whispered out loud. I'm a terrible liar, and I was having a very hard time convincing myself of anything.

The TV was making beautiful background noise when Dougie came trotting down the stairs. He leapt over the back of the couch and landed half in my lap. I groaned and shoved him a little, not enough to move him completely off of me, but enough to give the customary annoyed impression Dougie smiled and adjusted so he was beside me instead, then he cleared his throat and gestured to the TV.

"Since when do you watch Antiques Roadhouse?"

"Since I developed a crush on middle-aged delusions." I sighed, "Who was on the phone?" I asked casually, pretending I didn't already know the answer.

Dougie hesitated before answering, maybe because he realized that something here was different, "It was Rosalie." He said hurriedly.

"Oh."

Neither of us would look at each other.

"She says I've been distant."

"Really?"

"She thinks we need to spend some quality time together."

"Sounds fun."

"I'm actually thinking about heading over there now..."

"Oh."

There was an extended silence. It filled the room and muffled the sound of the television. I felt Dougie's body move as he breathed and it made me feel sick inside. Then a flutter shot through my stomach as I felt his fingers tangle themselves shyly with mine. I glanced down at our joined hands on the couch cushions between us, and a bashful smile touched my face.

"I don't know what we're doing here." Dougie said quietly, as if he thought the words wouldn't make any sense if spoken too loudly, "But whatever it is, I still need to talk to Rosalie Because right now, even though I'd give anything in the world at this very second not to give a flying fuck, she's my girlfriend, and I have an obligation to care."

I nodded slowly, the smile fading quickly from my face. I squeezed his hand tightly and then pulled mine free, "I understand."

Dougie smiled and leaned toward me to press a, still timid, but meaningful kiss to my cheek, but I turned my head slightly and he caught the corner of my mouth. Then he got up and walked toward the door, shooting me a smile as he left.

The minute he shut the door behind him I slumped down in the couch and sighed. I shook my head, "'I have an obligation to care.'" I mocked him, "Obligation my ass. His only obligation is to suck and he's doing a tremendous job of it." I glanced around the room and groaned, "I'm fucking talking to myself."

I let myself sit and wallow for about ten minutes before wandering toward the phone and dialing Leah's number with a sigh. She picked up after two and a half rings. Two and a half. I counted.

"Hello?"

"Sup Pimpette?"

"Not much, loser." Leah laughed, "What're you up to?" I leaned against the wall across from the front door and stared at it, mentally willing Dougie to come back, bursting through and taking me into his arms like in those heart wrenching Hollywood teen flicks.

"Pondering the meaning of life, arguing the ethics of gravity, considering the benefits of Buddhism, debating whether or not asparagus should be considered edible, you know the usual." I said nonchalantly and began picking at the chipped green nail polish on my pinky finger.

"Sounds stimulating."

"Yea." Then, without thinking, I blurted, "Dougie kissed me."

There was a second of silence on the line during which I was given a chance to realize exactly what I had said. I felt like an idiot.

"What?" Leah finally said.

"Dougie...well, he almost...kissed me." I slid down the wall and hit the floor with a thump.

"What do you mean almost?"

"I mean, like, we almost kissed and then...the phone rang."

"Was it important?"

"I've only been fantasizing about it since the first grade."

"No, I mean the phone call."

"Oh." I rolled my eyes at myself and gave myself a mental thwack on the head, "It was his girlfriend."

"Ouch, I bet that put a damper on the mood, eh?"

"To say the least."

"What did you do?"

"Well I just sort of closed my eyes and held my breath-"

"No, God, about Rosalie being on the phone."

"Oh." I sighed loudly, "Fortunately Danny called at the same time. Then I ran out of the room."

"So you paTomed?"

"Naturally."

"Naturally." There was a pause, then Leah sniffed loudly and spoke, "So then what happened, is he still there?"

"No he went to her house."

"Damn, that's lame. I'm sorry Char."

"I don't know how sorry you should be. Before he left he held my hand and said that he wished he could just ignore her. But he's got an obligation to care."

"Really?" This intrigued her immensely. "What do you suppose he meant?"

"I don't know, Lee, but I'm hoping it's good."

"I'm sure it is. It sounds so anyway. He sure enjoyed that kiss you two shared at the diner last week."

I blushed just remembering it, "He wasn't the only one."

"Ooo my little Charlotte finally openly admits that she has hormones."

"I so do not have hormones. Only animals and boys have hormones."

"Grrr. You should totally ask Dougie to Homecoming."

I frowned, "Homecoming?"

"Yea that thing where you get all dressed up and dance and everyone's hormones they don't have get wired."

"Ugh, sounds barbaric."

"Sometimes I seriously think our only option is piracy."

"Sometimes I seriously doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion."

"Shut up, I'm a lifer. That's why I'm peer pressuring you into taking a leap and asking Dougie to Homecoming before Rosalie the Ass-whore does."

"Ass-whore?"

"Yea apparently she takes it in th-"

"So this Homecoming thing sounds great I'll mull it over, bye!" I hung up immediately and tossed the phone across the floor. The last thing I ever wanted to know was the places that Rosalie Forese would "take it". And the whole asking Dougie to Homecoming idea was, although incredibly appealing, not going to happen. Not only was some stupid high school dance probably the furthest thing from his mind at the time, he would never go with me. Like he said, he had obligations right now to his girlfriend. I couldn't expect him to just ditch her when he didn't know what the hell was going on here, could I? But unless he got rid of his obligation to her he could never just find out what was going on here. Suddenly, realistic logic started to pass through my head and the idea of taking Dougie to Homecoming started to seem more and more possible.

Now I just needed to grow some balls.

That Night, 11:30

I couldn't sleep. Knowing Dougie was out with Rosalie, and knowing that I may just be losing my window of opportunity, was making me paranoid and nauseous. Not to mention crabby.

I was laying on my back staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to think about what had almost happened last time I was in my bed. I started counting spots on my ceiling; the little plaster balls leered down at me and taunted me. They pressured me to jump out my window with the terrifying voices of singing children.

Come to think of it, I might have been losing my mind.

I had managed to count one hundred and thirty four spots when my phone rang loudly beside me. I rolled over and reached for the receiver.

"Please be Doug, please be Doug, please be Doug." I held my breath for thirty seconds before answering, "Hello?"

"Hey, Lilly? It's Drake."

I frowned, "Who?"

"Drake Morrow, ya know, from the party?"

I probed my mind for any tiny recollection of someone named "Drake" from a party. I discovered a very foggy image of a boy in a letterman's jacket with a tongue stud.

"Do you play football, Drake?" I asked slowly.

"Yea, starting quarter back. You don't remember. Well, fuck me, this is kinda embarrassing."

"No, no, I remember. The party. We met...on the couch." I slapped myself on the forehead.

"Yea." He laughed, "So I hope it's not too late for me to call you."

I sighed again and rolled onto my back, obviously it wasn't Dougie, but I figured the guy managed to find my number I had given him and remember me enough to have the decency to call. So I'd give him a conversation.

"No. I'm used to late night phone calls. Perverts only call at night, they feel less dirty."

"Perverts?"

"Yea my number is in the book under 'Ultimate Phone Whore'."

"You don't say."

"Well...no." There was a slight pause, "Why did you call me?" Then I rolled my eyes at myself for being so fucking dumb. But Drake laughed on the other side.

"Sorry, I got distracted by your rambling. It's cute."

Cute?!

"But I called to ask you if you wanna go to the Homecoming dance with me."

My jaw hit the floor. Mr. All-Star Football player wanted to gob to the Homecoming dance with me? How cliche.

"And don't go thinking it's just because I like you or something. It's mostly just because I got nominated and I think you'd look hot on my arm when I win." He chuckled.

Another jaw drop. And he thinks he's clever too.

"Charlotte?"

"Uhhh...I don't know...I was going to go with someone else."

"So tell them you changed your mind."

"Aren't we the cocky one." I smiled. He was persistent.

"Come on, it'll be fun, I promise."

"I don't know."

"Okay, well just think it over and let me know at school on Monday."

"I can do that."

"Great. I'll see you Monday, Charlotte."

"Yes Monday, Drake."

I hung up the phone and stared back up at my ceiling. For crying out fucking loud.

Monday

I didn't see or hear from Dougie for the rest of the weekend.

I think it goes without saying that I may have surpassed what qualifies as "freaking out".

I wasn't sure why Dougie never touched base with me, at least I pretended to be unsure. The truth was obvious...but sometimes living in denial is necessary to stabilize one's sanity. But it still wasn't like Dougie to just fall off the face of the earth like that. I tried to convince myself he was behaving strangely entirely on account of his feelings for me, that his prolonged absence was all because he was sitting alone trying to come up with the most poetic way to profess his love to me. Dougie always had a way with words.

I knew I was being exceptionally delusional. I mean, I've had my fair share of delusional moments. Okay my fair share and then some. But this was going far, far, far and beyond my usual capacity.

I called him numerous times, always met with the same silly voicemail message Dougie had put on his phone the day he got it and never changed. I heard it so many times over those two days that I had it not only memorized but stuck in my head, repeating, like a bad song on the radio, all morning on Monday.

I got to school five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring, and only made it to my locker with thirty seconds to spare. I had barely gotten it open when some unbelievably uncoordinated walking fish-stick of a freshman came hurtling down the hallway, tripped over her own fucking feet, and collided with my locker door. It slammed shut, narrowly missing my fingertips.

I stared after the girl in complete shock. She hadn't even paused to apologize. She just continued flying along, totally oblivious to the fact that she nearly amputated my phalanges.

"What a fucking cretin." I mumbled in awe as I watched her thunder her way toward her class.

"You've been reading the Thesaurus for fun again, haven't you?"

I turned around slowly to face Dougie. My initial reaction was to pummel him and berate him for not calling me back. For just disappearing. For lying when he said he didn't want to go see Rosalie. For saying he was going to kiss me, and then not following through. For being as cowardly as I was.

Instead, I blinked quickly and gestured to the Furiously Fleeting Freshman.

"Did you see that mental defective? She almost fucking disabled me."

Dougie leaned sideways against the locker beside mine, "Charbear, what did your mom tell you about being mean to the defectives?"

"I'm not mean to their faces." I turned back to my locker and reopened it, "I mean, I'm standing here with you, right? In plain view of the public eye."

"God, Char, your sense of humanity is awe-inspiring." Dougie joked as my locker popped open. He stepped around me to avoid being hit in the face and leaned on the other side.

"So you came over here to praise the softness of my heart and make my ego nearly as inflated as yours without saying hello first?" I smiled sarcastically and tossed a notebook into the chasm that is my locker.

A cheeky smile spread itself across Dougie's face as he reached onto the shelf in my locker to grab a yellow hacky-sack Danny had left there.

"Hi, Charlotte." His tone was rank with the mocking sweetness of a child.

"Hi, Dougie." I imitated his tone almost flawlessly.

"What no hug?" He laughed. I paused in my rummaging through my locker and peered at him out of the corner of my eye. The smile on his face faltered briefly as I turned toward him, tossing my bangs out my vision, and set my bag on the ground.

I opened my arms and stepped up to him. Our hug was short, but tight. My arms looped diagonally across his chest; one over the shoulder, one under the other. And instinctively I shut my eyes and breathed him in. I think I felt his chest expand as he did the same.

When we separated we shared an uncomfortable look of "not knowing what to do next".

"Sorry, I thought we were past awkward hellos." I mumbled quietly, breaking the discomfited silence with something even more discomfiting.

Thankfully, Dougie laughed, "Ha, me too."

I gave a short smile and resumed my charade of a fervent locker search for the right text book. Carefully I glanced at Dougie who was bouncing the hacky-sack on his knee. I waited until he had caught it on the toe of his sneaker before clearing my throat and speaking slowly; trying with very little conviction, to sounds casual.

"So are you going to the dance?"

Dougie's face showed no loss of concentration as he balanced the bag of beans on his shoe. His eyes were fixed on it, but I could sense in his extended silence, that he wasn't what one might call "euphoric" that the subject found it's way into our conversation.

He jerked his foot, sending the hacky-sack into the air, and caught it effortlessly on the other foot. There was a three second hiatus before he finally answered me, "Yea..."

I looked away, into my locker again to hide the contorting of my face, "Oh...with Rosalie?"

Dougie tossed the ball again as I spoke, this time letting it hit the floor with a soft plastic tap, and took a step closer to me, "...yea. Look, Char, she brought it up. I really wasn't going to a--"

I cut him off abruptly, "Dougie, it's a stupid High School dance. Don't worry about it."

I didn't want to hear some haphazardly thrown out apology for something I should have expected all along. I said it was a stupid dance, what I meant was; it was a stupid idea.

I held my breath as I tugged a book out of my locker and tucked it between my arm and my chest, cradling it close in a lame attempt at protecting my fragile feelings from anymore stomping. Dougie stooped down to pick up the hacky-sack. He held it in his hand, turning it over, just watching as his fingers moved the beans, changing its shape. Deforming it. His eyes never left his distraction as he spoke to me, so soft that his words didn't even echo in the empty hallway.

"It's just...I was thinking..." He trailed off, becoming lost in the disfigurement of the yellow hacky. My head swung to look at him, and I tried desperately to send him a telepathic message to keep talking. Finish the thought! Say it! Ask me!

"What?" I stared at him, "What, Dougie?"

Dougie's mouth hung open, suspended mid-word. He glanced up at me then back to his hands, "I...I don't know. Never mind."

Inside I crumbled again. I closed my eyes briefly then shifted my weight and submitted my disheartened gaze to the movement of his hands, "Oh...alright then."

"I mean, you're right it's just a stupid dance." Dougie said hastily as he looked up and tossed the hacky-sack from one hand to the other. I shrugged noncommittally.

"It's not that stupid." I mumbled to the floor.

"What?"

"Nothing." I shook my head and decided on a slight change of topic, "Does she know about...your dad?" I asked carefully.

Dougie's eyes drifted to the floor and stayed there for a moment. Then he shrugged and answered softly, "No. But I figure...she doesn't really need to, ya know? I told you." Dougie smiled like the fact that I was his confidant, that he had opened up to me, was all that was necessary. That smile faded as quickly as it had appeared and he shrugged again, "And when the year ends, I guess...I mean, I don't think anybody else needs to know." His eyes flitted slowly up to meet mine. They were wide and nervous. He was asking for some kind of approval of his decision to keep his family trauma a secret. I just smiled softly and nodded. Dougie broke the eye contact immediately, because the nod was all he wanted. He turned around and tossed the hacky-sack back into my locker.

"And, who knows. Maybe this dance thing is exactly what I need."

I looked away from him, into the depths of my locker. I sniffed and closed it, leaving any hope of being more than what we were inside. When I turned back Dougie was already beginning the walk to class, backwards, looking at me. Again waiting for some kind of validation of his thought. I just blinked and stepped alongside him.

"It's just a stupid dance." I said calmly, hoping the emotionless nonchalance hid the hurt and uncertainty. A few steps more and I saw Dougie nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Yea." He agreed.

It eludes me to this day, how we managed to fool each other.

During third period English, I sought out Drake. I had seen him in the back of the classroom before, sleeping, I had just never really had a reason to actually notice him.

He looked up with a smile as I approached his desk. Blue eyes glazing over with some kind of ego-maniacal all-knowing power. He knew I was coming to accept his invitation. The posture of his thick body showed he did.

He had leaned back casually, one leg sprawled out across the aisle. Two of his football buddies were seated near him and they both looked at me expectantly as I came to a halt.

"Hey there." Drake said, and the cocky grin could be heard in his tone.

"Hi." I smiled back and made my best attempt at flirtatiousness. If it had been Dougie, he would have burst into a hysterical fit of giggles. But somehow, Drake couldn't see through my girlie mask to the true dork underneath.

"How's it goin'?" Drake asked, coolly jerking his chin upward. I shrugged.

"It's going." Was all I could say. Sometimes things are just too much for you to completely lie about.

"That's cool." Drake continued grinning up at me, waiting patiently for the boost of ego I was sure to supply. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, opting for an absurd chuckle instead.

I'm told sometimes girls laugh at stuff thats not funny when it comes to guys they like.

"So, Drake, I just wanted to come and tell you that I'd love to go to Homecoming with you." I said quickly. The grin grew on his face, if even possible.

"Shit, you should have gotten to me sooner." He said, "I got reeled into going with this sophomore during second hour."

I think my jaw hit the floor. How did this guy manage to make the physically impossible continually happen to me?

"Oh..." I shifted uncomfortably, "Well, thats...excruciatingly... embarrassing" I stammered. Drake stood up and cut me off.

"I'm just fucking with you." He said with a satisfied smirk. I clamped my mouth shut and mentally threw myself over the edge of a cliff.

My God he is one funny fucking meathead.

Drake leaned forward and his lips ghosted past my ear, "I'm glad you changed your mind." He whispered. His hand grazed my arm as the bell rang and I turned around like a zombie to find my seat.

Danny wandered in halfway through the period, decked out in sunglasses and reeking of Axe cologne. He handed his pass to the teacher, who gave him a rather suspicious look, and made his way clumsily to the empty seat behind me.

He only ran into three other desks along the way.

"Shit, Dan, how many bowls did you smoke this morning?" I turned around and hissed as soon as the teacher had resumed her lecture. He grinned at me sleepily.

"I'm not stoned, Chaa." He laughed, "I'm hung over. I'd think you of all people would understand the difference."

"Wow, Danny, that was almost funny." I smirked, "Why are you hung over?"

"Uh, because I was drunk last night?" Danny cocked an eyebrow at me as if I was the epitome of stupidity. "You're not really following are you?"

I reached back and swiped at the sunglasses on his face. He yelped and jerked backwards, almost putting out the eye of the Junior behind him.

"You're such a twerp!" I laughed, "Why were you drunk last night? Did you finally realize that you're worthless?"

"Ouch." Danny touched his chest, "Actually I was hanging out with my lady, who happens to have a fondness for strawberry wine." He wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively and it took less than a millisecond for me to swat his arm and nearly shriek.

"You're lady?" I practically leapt from my desk, "You've been holding out me, mother fucker! Who is it?"

Danny gave me a very condescending look and tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, "Summer Van White." His voice was rich with a husky sort of film Noir suave. I narrowed my eyes.

"Seriously?" I cocked my head to the side disbelievingly, "I thought she scared the living piss out of you during that project."

"She did. She is one scary biznatch when it comes to scholastics." He pushed his sunglasses back up and leaned forward to get an inch from my face, "But away from the prison grounds she's an animal." He purred at me.

I sat back and turned back to the teacher as she posted the assignment up on the board. After copying it down I swiveled back to face Danny, who hadn't taken his eyes off of me.

"That's so weird. You and Summer? I didn't think you were her type." I rolled my eyes at the openly aghast look on his face, "Or that she was yours for that matter."

"Me neither. But there's something about her." He sighed and shook his head, a soft sort of affectionate gesture that I had never seen Danny make over anything except a cheeseburger.

"My God, Dannyboy, you've fallen for a girl!"

"You make me sound like a fairy."

"I'll admit I was starting to have my suspicions." I grinned, "Why the hell didn't you fucking tell me?"

Danny's jaw dropped slightly and he flung his pencil at my head, luckily it missed and hit some girl in the front row.

"I did tell you, Charlotte! On the phone on Friday!" He sighed again, this time with shame, and looked down at his desk.

I stared at him, "You did not tell me." I insisted, wracking my brain for some memory of him mentioning it.

"I knew you weren't listening to me."

"I was totally listening to you..." I frowned, "Sort of."

Danny snorted, "Were you making out with your new boyfriend?" Danny teased. I glared at him. How did he find out about me and Dougie's twisted relationship? He shouldn't make fun of me.

"What are you talking about?" I scoffed, "Don't be a jackass, Danny, he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh so you and that big ole' stud of a grizzly bear in the back aren't going to the Homecoming Dance together?" He crooned, gesturing toward Drake. My head shot up and I furrowed my brow.

"Drake?" I glanced back at him. He was playing Chinese Paper Football with his friends. They were all so into it, like it was a real game and a real championship lay on the lines.

Boys are a species that I will never understand.

"Yeah." Danny tried to meet my eyes, "Who did you think I was talking about?"

I caught his gaze for a split second before looking back down at the desk between us, "I don't...nobody."

"Char, come on, what's up?" Danny leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, and tilted his face in front of mine, "Talk to me Chizzle Jizzle."

I laughed and tucked my hair nervously behind my ear. I tried to force myself to look at him, but I couldnt. Instead I managed a weak shrug and a timid smile.

"It's Dougie." He said softly. Not asking, just knowing. I lowered my head even further, letting it hit the desk with a thud.

Danny let out a slow breath and I heard his body shift as he sat back again, "I always kinda figured there was something going on."

I peeked up at him from beneath my hair, "It doesn't shock you?"

"You're kidding right?" He laughed, "It makes sense, Char. You guys have been one step away from romance for years now. I can see it in his eyes and the way he moves when he's around you. I've been making bets with myself on who'd admit it first."

"Don't tease me."

Danny leaned forward again and laid his head down on the desk beside mine so that we were eye to eye, "I'm not."

I bit my lip, "You really think it's mutual?"

"Yes. You really think I'm worthless?"

"Yes."

"Nice."

I lifted my head, resting my chin on my forearm and gazed down at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were red, but he looked happy and content. I guess love can be found in the most unsuspected of places. Like Life Studies Class or the candy aisle at a convenience store.

"Danny I'm terrified." I whispered. He sat up and reached forward to tuck my bangs behind my ears. They tumbled back across my forehead and he smiled.

"Yeah? Well so is he."

After Danny's attempt at moral boosting, I had a hard time meandering through the day without thinking about what he said. Was it really so obvious to everyone else that me and Dougie were so confused? Not even that we were confused but that there was some underlying passion that we were trying to ignore? Did all of our friends see this? Or just the stoner kid?

I pondered over it all through the next two hours and barely managed to redirect my mind long enough to hear Leah shouting my name as I walked obliviously into a classroom door.

It caught me full on and I tumbled backwards to the floor, sprawling out across the hall like Bambi on the ice. My books scattered everywhere, and people stepped over them, sTomering and pointing at me and my Lizzie Maguire moment.

I shook my head and rubbed my temples to try and refocus my doubled vision as Leah gathered some of my books. She squatted beside me, a hand on my shoulder and checked my eyes.

"Fuck, Charlotte! Where the hell were you? Narnia?" She helped me stand up and shot a glare at the boy who had opened the door and knocked me on my ass, "Why don't you get your eyes checked, you near sighted fuckass!" She shouted at him as he loped away, a barely mumbled apology hovering in his wake.

"Shit...that hurt...a lot." I murmured and leaned back against the wall.

"Yea I'll bet." Leah scolded. She stood in front of me holding my books and waiting for me to fully return to earth. "So what were you so preoccupied with?"

"I don't even know, Lee." I sighed, "I'm really fucked in the head right now."

Her faced softened and she brushed at my hair affectionately, "I know, Char. Come on, I'll buy you a Twinkie."

Leah threw an arm around my shoulders and led me down the hallway toward the cafeteria. I followed absently, watching the floor, "How is a Twinkie supposed to help me clear my head?"

Leah snorted as we reached the vending machines and sent me a slinky smile, "I've always lived by two rules, Charlotte." She began as she dug through her back pocket for a dollar, "One: never leave the house without checking to make sure your shirt is right side out." She slid the dollar into the machine and hit the buttons, "And two." She paused again to watch the predominantly processed pastry fall to the slot below, "The best cure for a bad day is sex and Twinkies."

I stared at her as she stopped to tug it out of the bin and then handed it to me. I glanced from the Twinkie to her and then back again several times before she threw it at me.

"I don't wanna know what freaky ass things you and Tom do with your alone time." I said as we continued to the cafeteria. Leah laughed and pushed open the big glass doors.

"We sit around telling each other housekeeping secrets we read in Martha Stewart Living."

"Yeah, naked maybe." I ripped open the package and pulled a chunk off.

Leah glared at me as we approached the table, "I resent your insinuation that all we do is have sex. I'll have you know that Tom and I do a lot of other really fun things together."

"Do you make pajama pants that say 'Jesus Loves Me' on them?" I asked.

"Fuck no."

"Oh good."

She stopped and crossed her arms, "We take walks and go to the beach and play games. Normal couple stuff."

"What kind of games?" I licked some cream filling from my knuckle and looked up at her quizzically. She shrugged, clearly frustrated, in a very funny way.

"We like to play chess."

"Naked chess."

Leah swatted the back of my head with a barely suppressed laugh and we moved to join the boys already gathered around the table. Danny looked up and winked at me as I slid into the open seat beside Dougie.

"Hey." Dougie smiled at me. I set my Twinkie on the table in front of me and smiled back.

"So, Charlotte, I heard through the grape vine that you have a date for the Homecoming Dance." Tom chuckled. I narrowed my eyes at him and shifted in my seat.

"Really?" Dougie turned to stare at me, "I thought you sai--"

"Yeah he's a football hero too." Kyle joined in, pulling a very dramatic passing pose. I refocused my glare at the half eaten Twinkie in front of me.

"Footballs a pussy sport." Tom shook his head scornfully, his humor lost, swallowed up by his loathing of our schools primary athletic focus, "Our soccer team has more wins under its belt this year than the football team has had the past four."

"Don't worry, buddy, someday they'll open their eyes." Danny stuffed a forkful of cafeteria food into his mouth.

Tom let out a sardonic laugh and tossed a grape into Andy's milk carton, "Yea, they'll open 'em when I fucking nail the principal in the testicles with a soccer ball."

"Yes, Tom, use violence to make your point." Leah rolled her eyes, "All you'll show them is that the soccer players need to lay off the Gatorade."

Tom proceeded to tell Leah exactly how useful Gatorade could be, what with the electrolytes and whatnot. And Leah proceeded to tell Tom exactly how much she cared about electrolytes. I kept my eyes trained on the table, trying to count the marble spots to avoid looking up and meeting Dougie's steady stare. Or lack thereof. I made a very sneaky glance upward and saw that he was also fixated on the table, and I knew it wasn't because he had a strange fascination with crusted salad dressing.

I don't know if the others at the table were purposefully ignoring our awkward reverse staring contest, or if they were actually so wrapped up in their discussion of whether or not Gatorade counted as a performance enhancer like steroids, that they were virtually oblivious to the world around them.

Finally Dougie's voice entered the atmosphere around my head as he said very quietly, "Why didn't you say anything this morning?"

I waited a minute before blinking slowly and answering without looking up, "Say anything about what? My newfound love of anything Shia LaBeouf, or the fact that I don't really know how to swing dance?"

I could hear Dougie sigh, but I could feel in the sigh that he wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about that morning anyway.

"The swing dancing." He answered. I nodded and looked up at him for the first time. He was still staring at the table top, but I knew he was really focused intently on me. Any shift in my body or intake of breath. The tiniest toss of my head or switch in my tone. He was taking it all in and trying to find a hidden meaning. Trying to break it all down and see where my head was, see where I was going before it happened. Before I even knew.

I could tell he was doing this because its exactly what I was doing.

That whole, sixth sense thing I mentioned.

"Well, Poynter, I have a general idea of how to swing dance. But it was a horrendous lie when I said I was a professional."

Dougie laughed and reached for what was left of my Twinkie, "Can I have this?" He asked, his eyebrows raised and his eyes big and innocent. I pretended to consider it for a minute; squinting and rubbing my chin.

"Yes, but it'll cost you."

"Name it."

"Well since I already own your soul, maybe you could give me that brownie." I smiled and pointed to the Little Debbie snack sitting near Dougie's elbow.

He turned and grabbed it, holding it out to me, but stopped and pulled it away, "I'm gonna need you to do something for me."

I glared at him and made a swipe for the brownie, "That's not really how this whole trading thing works, Dougie."

He laughed and slid the brownie under his t-shirt. I opened my mouth to protest and shut it quickly, staring after my dessert as it disappeared in a place I had only ever dreamed of going. I glanced up at Dougie, "You're underestimating me."

"No I'm not." He smirked.

"Oh so you think I won't spear you off your chair and tear your shirt to shreds for a brownie?"

Dougie's cheeky grin spread wider, "I'm one hundred percent aware that you would do that and so much worse for a crumb of a brownie."

"Spare your corny clothing and give me that brownie."

"There's nothing corny about Smurfs."

"I swear to God, Dougie, if you don't give me tha---" I watched Dougie dip the tip of his forefinger into the cream filling and lick it off, his eyes trained on my face the entire time. After that it took me a long time to get myself back on track and before I could speak, Dougie leaned forward, a centimeter from my ear, and whispered;

"Just save me a dance?"

I moved my head to look at him. He had the smallest of hopeful smiles on his face, almost masked with defensive cockiness, but not enough that I couldn't see right through it. I smiled and slid my hand quickly up the front of his shirt, grabbing the brownie and earning the softest of gasps from his lips as my hand brushed over his skin.

"Done."


	9. Chapter 9

Not that good of a chapter..

It gets better..

* * *

I had exactly one week before the Homecoming dance. One week to steady my nerves for entering the gymnasium on the arm of the captain of the football team, one week to learn how to walk more than two steps in high heels without falling on my face, and one week to find a dress that looked decent on me.

I have little to no faith in my ability to radiate feminism. Fourteen years with a male best friend was probably to blame.

The second the final bell of the day rang I was clinging desperately to Leah's arm, begging her to come shopping with me.

"I can't today, Char. I have practice." She told me apologetically. I glared at her and threw myself dramatically against her locker.

"But you suck at volleyball." I whined. She pinched my arm, making me let out a horrendous squealing yelp, and turned around to make her way to the locker room. I shoved myself off of the wall and latched onto her waist.

"Charlotte!" She shouted, nearly stumbling into our English teacher.

"I'm desperate!" I cried, "You know I have zero fashion sense and even less common sense. I won't be able to pick a dress without you!"

Leah rolled her eyes but a smirk found its way to her lips, "Charlotte, you'll look amazing in anything. Besides it doesn't matter what you wear, you're going to be the center of his attention."

"Whose attention?" I feigned innocence, "Mr. Engle the band teacher? Or Pop'n'Fresh. Because I am so tryin' to get all up in his play dough."

"Dougie!" Leah shoved me, "You could go in a fucking paper sack and he still wouldn't be able to take his eyes off of you."

I felt myself begin to blush and turned away from her, "I still want to look good." I admitted shyly, "This is so stupid. But I just want to...ya know..." I trailed off.

"Want to what?"

I hesitated, debating whether or not the suffering I'd endure after uttering this sentence would be worth it, "I want to...take his breath away."

Leah's smile grew and she nudged me playfully, "You want to look sexy. You want to give him a boner."

"Ahhh, Leah!" I covered my ears and whined loudly until she stopped teasing me, "That was so vulgar." I murmured after uncovering my ears. She grinned at me and shifted the large duffle bag on her shoulder.

"Look, Char, I'd be more than ecstatic to go help you buy the sex dress of your dreams, but I really need to go to practice, because like you said, I suck at volleyball." She sighed and I pulled a grimace at her use of the term "sex dress".

"Lee, you're the Rachael to my Monica." I gave her the most piteous, pathetic puppy dog eyes imaginable, and all she did was snort at my audacity in using a serious and appropriate metaphor involving characters from Friends.

"If you can possibly find a way to suppress your insatiable need to panic until tomorrow, then I'll throw on my bling and we'll paint the mall neon."

I shook my head, "Wait, what?"

Leah fluttered her eyelashes at me and ruffled my hair, "If not, then take Danny. We all know he has a Queer Eye."

I furrowed my eyebrows and scratched my chin, putting on a very impressive look of Martin Sheen style contemplation before responding, "That's not a bad idea."

"Of course not." She pecked me on the cheek and started toward the gym, flipping me the bird as she did. I scowled after her, trying with every fiber of my being to curse her so she got hit in the head every five minutes with a volley ball.

I made it out to the parking lot before I even spotted Danny. When I did it was all I could do not to keel over with laughter. He was standing with Summer next to her car, with her purse slung over his shoulder and her books cradled in his arms. She wasn't unlocking the door or turning on the stereo or anything that required two hands, she was just standing there flirting with him, and from what I could see she wasn't even very good at it.

I watched her throw her head back and laugh manically at something stupid he had said, and then she reached out and swatted his arm playfully, nearly knocking all of her shit to the ground in the process. Danny teetered on one foot for a whole two minutes, on the brink of disaster, as she turned around finally to slide into her car. Then he set her things in the back seat and leaned in the driver's window to give, what I noticed, was a very passionate and long lasting kiss.

It was probably really juicy too.

The kind of kiss I was still waiting for from Dougie.

...or anyone for that matter...

As soon as Summer had pulled out of the parking lot, I made my way over to Danny.

"Danny the P-I-M-P." I did my best Snoop Dogg impression and jumped on his back.

"Get off of me you Hippo." He joked and spun around really fast, making me emit a very involuntary squeal and tighten my grip on his shoulders.

When he stopped and I slid from his back I immediately swung my arm around his neck and gave him a noogie. He swatted at my hands.

"No touching the hair!" He shouted, gripping my wrists and giving the crazy stoner eyes. I snorted with laughter.

"When the fuck did you start caring about your hair?"

Danny let go of my wrists and leaned down to adjust his hair in the reflection of a car window, "I don't." He insisted, "Summer said--"

"Whipped!" I punched him in the shoulder. He yelped and clutched at it, shooting me a glare.

"First of all, ow!" He shook his head at me, "And second of all, I am not whipped." He reached into his bag hanging low by his hip and pulled out his trucker hat, the one that was usually surgically attached to his head.

"Sure your not. That's why you let Summer tell you to remove this thing--" I rapped on the bill of the hat as he tugged it onto his head, "--even though we all know its your main source of brain power. Without it you can barely manage blinking and walking at the same time."

Danny leaned back down to check the exact tilt of his precious hat in the car window again before scolding me, "If you would ever shut the fuck up for more than two milliseconds at a time then you would have heard the entirety of my sentence."

"You make it sound like I'm always talking or something."

"Well, you are." He smiled, "I was trying to tell you that Summer said your sweater today really brings out the green in your eyes."

I smiled at the compliment, "Well you can tell Summer that I said thank you but I don't muff dive. I have a hard time holding my breath."

Danny's jaw dropped and he shoved me, "You're a disgusting excuse for a girl."

"True." I rose my forefinger in the air as if making a groundbreaking statement. "Which is why I went out of my way to ogle you and your butch snogging each other in the parking lot, so I could cordially invite you to go Homecoming dress shopping with me."

Danny stared at me for a long minute, "I'm not sure what part of that to address first."

"I find it's usually a good idea to start at the beginning."

"Okay." Danny took a deep breath, "My butch?"

"I saw you holding her shit." I shrugged, "You, my friend, are so the bitch in that relationship.

"And you want me to go dress shopping with you?"

"You're the Will to my Grace." I pride myself on being able to make sense of any situation using characters from long running sitcoms.

"I'm not gay, Charbear." Danny rolled his eyes.

"But you have a very compromising sense of style." I waited patiently for two heartbeats before hurling myself to my knees and wrapping my arms around his legs, "Please, Dan! I'm so lost and alone in the crazy mixed up world! The mall is no place for someone like me!"

"Fashion victims with big boobs and short abdomens?"

I ignored his comment and gave him huge, sinister eyes, "I'll buy you a smoothie."

Danny grinned down at me, "Alright, let's go shopping."

I stood up and threw my arms around his neck, "I promise I won't ever tell anyone you're addicted to animal porn ever again!"

"Wait, what?"

I let go of him, "Wal-Mart then?"

Danny stared at me, "You're joking, right?"

I just blew him a kiss and started toward his car. When we were both seated and he had begun to back out of his space, Danny turned to me, "Did you say you were ogling me and Summer snogging in the parking lot?"

"Don't get a big head about it, " I sniffed and tossed my feet up on the dashboard, "I ogle everyone when they snog in the parking lot."

----------------------------------------------

I stood in the tiny changing booth, staring at my reflection in the full length mirror, trying to decide on a scale of one to ten, just how much of a disaster it would be to go out in public in that dress.

"Charlotte?" Danny called from outside the door, "Come on, let me see it."

I tugged at the low neckline, so low it plummeted in between my breasts, and muttered a few curse words at how awkward my chest looked.

"No." I said back. There was a groan and Danny knocked on the door.

"Char, I'm here to help you, but I can't really do that if you won't let me see you in the dresses." He paused, "This is the third one and you still won't come out."

I pouted at myself and pulled aside the edges of the thigh high slit in the ankle length dress. I jutted out my leg and attempted a seductive pose.

"Charlotte." Danny said again. I sighed dramatically.

"I can't, Daniel, I look like an idiot."

"You're wearing the black one right?"

"Yeah."

"Then that's not possible."

His words made me smile and I reached for the doorknob, "You can't laugh." I warned.

"Cross my heart."

I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and pulled the door open. Danny stepped back and stared at me. His mouth hung open slightly and his eyes were so wide he reminded me of a chinchilla.

I grew self-conscious under his gaze and started to retreat back into the dressing room, but Danny reached out and grabbed my arm.

"You look..." He shook his head slowly, "Amazing, Charlotte."

Even though it was Danny, I was as red as a fucking tomato.

"Really?" I asked timidly, the grin on my face so big and tight I thought my face might split in two.

Danny nodded furiously, "I almost wish I had asked you." He laughed, "To get to look at you in that all night..." He trailed off and shook his head again, "Dougie isn't gonna know what hit him."

The smile on my face faltered, "But I'm not going with Dougie." I sighed, "Rosalie, his girlfriend is. I'm going with Drake. Everyone seems to be forgetting that. Even me."

Danny grabbed both of my hands and held them out so he could get a broader view of me in the dress, "A trivial catch." He smiled reassuringly, "She's only still a part of this because Dougie's too much of a pussy to go after what he really wants. He always has been. Sure he puts on that he's Mr. Charisma, but he's just as scared as the rest of us." Danny raised his eyes to meet mine, "Deep down, he's just a kid."

I turned around so he could zip it up the rest of the way, studying him in the mirror as he fumbled with the clasps and continued speaking, "As for Drake, " He bit down on his tongue, concentrating very hard, "You shouldn't date a guy with Dennis the Menace tattooed on his ass cheek anyway."

I frowned and turned around to face him, "For real?"

Danny smirked and shrugged, "Sometimes I do deals in the locker room with players after practice."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the image of Danny selling weed to a buck naked Drake. Especially when there was a little blond cartoon boy carrying a slingshot permanently imprinted on his butt.

I stared at Danny for a long time while he fussed with the rumpled waist of my dress. For being a lifelong stoner, born with a bong in his hand, he was unbelievably perceptive, and indisputably intelligent.

"There, " He stood up straight and stepped back to admire me one more time, "Of course, you can't wear the bright green bra with it."

I glanced down at the undergarment peeking out between the folds of my dress and laughed, tugging it around to cover it up. Then I looked back up at Danny and smiled, "Thank you."

He nodded, knowing full well that I didn't just mean for picking out the dress. Then I spun around and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

Maybe he was right, I didn't look so ridiculous after all.

Danny dropped me off at my house after another hour of standing awkwardly outside the mall doors second guessing my purchase and pretending I wasn't hungry even though I was just because I was feeling self conscious about the whole dress thing.

I came frighteningly close to throttling Danny and making away with his pretzel.

He will never know how close he came to losing a hand.

It's probably for the best.

I crawled out of Danny's car, moaning with hunger pain and dragging my shopping bag along behind me.

"Go eat something, stupid." He shouted at me. I slid the rest of the way out the door and curled up in a ball on the sidewalk.

"I swear, I'm not hungry." I groaned. Danny revved his engine.

"Dougie's here."

I sat up with a bolt of sudden energy, my eyes wide like a deer in headlights, and almost squealed when I spotted Dougie's car in my driveway.

I jumped to my feet, taking a second to cringe at the loud, painful rumble of my stomach, "What are you waiting for?" I hissed at Danny, "Away with you!"

Danny reached into his glove box and tossed a package of sweet tarts in my direction. I barely caught them, shooting him a dirty look as they slipped through my fingers.

"Sure, throw candy at the fatty." I snarled, "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"I figured the sugar would tide you over until you're alone so you'll fucking eat." Danny shook his head, "Do you have any idea how severely I'll murder your ass if you get all stupid and girly on me?"

I fluttered my eyelashes at him and peered down into my bag, "I!" I paused for dramatic effect, "Am a woman." Then I turned and started slowly for the porch, "So suck my balls."

"Go find Dougie." Danny chuckled.

"Okay."

"Peace out, Dr. Frank-N-Furter." Danny waved as he pulled away from the curb, and I waved after him with my middle finger.

I watched his car disappear around the corner before racing toward the porch. I leapt flawlessly over both steps only to crash full on into Dougie as he came out the front door.

There were a few painfully awkward seconds of full frontal body contact before we were both stable again.

Dougie smiled at me, an only slightly restricted laugh escaping him, "Hello, Starshine."

"Salutations." I slapped a hand playfully against his chest. Dougie stepped backwards slowly, still grinning at me, and sat carefully down on the porch swing.

"I heard you bought your homecoming dress."

"Sure did." I leaned casually against the railing adjacent from him.

Dougie cocked his head to the side, "Can I see it?"

I narrowed my eyes at him and glanced down into the bag I still clutched tightly in my fist, "Uh. . .no."

"Uh. . .why not?" Dougie mocked me.

I shrugged and moved the bag behind my back protectively, "I think it's bad luck or something."

"Danny got to." Dougie whined, looking very pathetically insulted.

I smiled at him sweetly, "Yes, well I haven't seen Danny naked."

"Oh and that makes a difference?"

"Theoretically speaking."

Dougie shook his head and sat forward on the swing, "First of all, we were eight."

I had to physically suppress the very animated grin that wanted to appear on my face.

"And secondly, " He continued, "That was an accident. I had no idea you were going to walk in."

"You were in my room, Dougie." I chuckled. He scooted forward further as he got more heated.

"Yea, but you were supposed to be at girl scouts." Dougie pointed accusingly at me.

"Oh come on, you knew I never actually went to girl scouts." I dropped the bag behind me and crossed my arms. Dougie scowled at me and sat back slowly.

"Touche."

"Besides you never really told me why you were naked in my room." I pointed out suspiciously.

Dougie shrugged and kicked his feet up on the railing, "It will forever be a mystery."

"But you used my favorite stuffed animal as a loin clothe!" I shouted with horrified recollection. Dougie smirked at me.

"It was really soft."

I shook my head at him, blatantly disturbed, "I can't even look at Baby Elton the Anteater anymore without seeing your scrawny body attached to him."

Dougie's smirk got worse and he plucked absently at the hem of his shirt, "I look a lot better naked now."

My head shot up and I tried to disguise the blush that I felt heat up my face. Our eyes met for a split second during which I noticed that Dougie was definitely blushing too, before we both looked away awkwardly.

Stop the unfair, dirty thoughts.

Nearly an entire minute passed by in excruciating silence when Dougie cleared his throat and spoke.

"Wanna hear something really sick?" He asked.

I looked up at him, thankful for the distraction and disregard of what we were both quite obviously thinking about.

"Sicker than you violating Baby Elton?"

"Very much so. Like twenty times sicker."

"I'm intrigued."

Dougie straightened himself up and smiled at me condescendingly, "I, Dougie Poynter, was nominated for Homecoming King."

I didn't mean to, but I snorted.

Dougie gave me a hurt look as I struggled to control my laughter, "Poynter, your pretends are getting less and less believable."

He sighed dramatically, "If only it was pretend."

I shook my head, "I refuse to believe you." I said stubbornly.

Dougie sat forward, his feet hitting the porch with a loud, indignant thud, "I will fucking show you the fucking ballot!"

Once again, I didn't mean to, but I snorted.

"Than fucking show me the fucking ballot!" I mocked him.

Dougie stood up quickly, visibly flustered, and dug through his pocket hurriedly.

"I will."

I watched him for a second, trying desperately to find the correct pocket, "It better not be on construction paper in green crayon.." I warned him playfully.

He glared at me and produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket, "Here."

I took it slowly and opened it. Indeed, it was a valid Homecoming ballot. And indeed, Dougie's name was on it. Right below Drake. I read it over three times before I believed it.

"I'm voting for you." I said finally. Dougie let out a groan.

"Don't vote for me."

I folded the ballot, "I'm doing it."

"Char, no, it's bad enough my name is even on that thing." He sighed, "I can't win."

I gave him an incredulous, sarcastic look, "Like my vote is going to make a difference."

Dougie sucked in a deep breath, "It makes a big difference to me."

I met his eyes and held them for a long time, carefully analyzing exactly what he meant by that and coming up with nothing other than the obvious.

"Please, Charlotte?"

I sighed loudly and rolled my eyes at his pleading puppy-dog look, "Alright, but I'm keeping this." I slid the ballot into my back pocket, "Besides, I'm sure the 4H candidate would appreciate my vote."

Dougie grinned, "Thanks."

"And hey, if you win anyway, we'll just switch clothes in the bathroom and I'll go up and give a speech for you." I added excitedly.

"Don't forget to thank the academy." Dougie leaned back opposite me.

I nodded, "And profess your undying love of all things Willy Wonka."

Dougie laughed, "I'd love to get my hands on a pair of those purple latex gloves." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"So you can spank the Oompa Loompas?" I asked, arching my own eyebrow.

"So I can spank Baby Elton." He corrected cheekily. My jaw dropped.

"Thats it, " I threw my hands in the air, "I am starting the Stuffed Anteaters Named After Gay Rock Icons Sexual Abuse Prevention Association."

Dougie chuckled, "SANAGRISAPA?"

"It's a mouthful." I thought for a moment, "We'll call it the Dougie Poynter Prevention Association for short."

"Ah yes, but then the world will know exactly how much you really do love me."

I opened my mouth to respond but changed my mind and looked down at my feet. After a second of silence I licked my lips and whispered, ". . . they could never know that."

Another beat of silence before Dougie followed with, ". . . ditto."

I looked up at him curiously. He was watching me the exact same way. There was something going on here, and I was getting more and more confused with each comment he made that held some other hidden meaning. Or maybe they weren't so much hidden as timid.

Dougie pushed off the wall and stepped closer to me, his hand coming forward to touch my cheek. I could feel him shaking nervously as his fingers brushed over my skin. I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat as he leaned down toward my face. His lips hovered, so close I could feel them tickling against my own.

"Dougie. . ." I whispered, my voice scratching painfully as I forced it out. He didn't back off and he didn't get any closer, but he did take in a sharp breath.

"I have to go." He said. I could hear the same strangled will power come out as his breath cascaded against my face.

"Okay." I croaked back. Dougie's eyes scanned my face rapidly and his chest heaved in and out with each deep breath; it matched the eager but terrified rhythm of my own, and he was standing so close that we touched each time.

His head dipped a fraction of a centimeter closer, but still he didn't kiss me. Then he stood up straight and swallowed loudly, running a hand over his forehead.

"What?" I felt the sting of tears hit the back of my throat and my eyes. Why was he doing this? Getting so close but always holding himself back. If he wanted me the way I wanted him, why the fuck was he acting like this was so wrong? "What, Dougie?" I repeated.

He held his breath briefly before clearing his throat again and answering, "It's, uh. . my parent's anniversary." He said very softly.

My body slumped with a mixture of relief, shame and sympathy. Dougie was going through something terrible, and I was being selfish.

He nodded slowly and wouldn't meet my eyes, "My mom doesn't wanna be. . .ya know, alone."

I stepped forward and reached for his hand. It was trembling.

So was mine.

"Do you. . .want me to come with you?" I asked carefully. Dougie looked up, locking eyes with me.

And I almost died inside when I saw the tears gathering in the corners.

He just stared at me for the longest time, fighting back the sadness. Dougie was stronger than I could ever hope to be, but sometimes it's just too hard to force everything down.

His grip tightened on my hand as the tiny drops crept over his eyelid and began to slide down his cheeks.

Dougie stomped his foot and bit down on his lip, frustrated by his falling tears. My mouth fell open as a silent sob escaped me and I reached up with my free hand to wipe them gently away.

He struggled with words for a bit, stopping my hand with his and holding it against his face, "Yeah." He answered finally. I nodded slowly, mesmerized as the tears seemed to stop instantly.

Dougie sighed shakily and turned to step off the porch, still holding onto my hand with so much force that a fleeting worry of broken bones entered my mind, but I didn't say a word.

Because he needed me.

The remainder of that one week before the dance went by as fast as if it had only been one day. And because of all the really super Homecoming festivities, Dougie had been pretty much MIA since his nomination burped out of the P.A. Tuesday afternoon. So I hadn't really had a chance to see him let alone speak to him. Needless to say I was pretty much a walking ball of nerves.

Nerves and vomit.

Vomit that threatened to spew forth at any given moment.

Specifically the moment Drake caught my arm in the hallway and pressed a rather moist kiss to my right cheek.

I caught the vomit before it erupted out of my mouth, even thought it just might have been worth it to throw up all over his football cleats.

"So is tonight our first date? Or our second?" Drake whispered as he redirected me toward his own locker.

I tasted twice as much vomit that time.

"Are you okay?" He asked me, pausing to study the pained expression on my face. I covered my mouth and nodded. Drake barely missed a beat.

"I mean, I wouldn't necessarily count that party as a date. But we can't just ignore the fact that we've made out, ya know?" He smirked at me, and I swear to God my liver tried to crawl up my throat.

I managed to swallow everything and force a smile, but I knew that if I tried to say anything. . .well, there would be no salvaging the relationship.

Drake didn't really seem to notice as he tossed his books into his locker and threw an arm casually around my shoulders. We wandered down the hallway in silence, Drake greeting every single time worthy person to cross our path; and me praying nonstop for the apocalypse.

Then an angel dressed solely in black and red called my name above the sea of students, and I actually cried out with glee.

"Hey, Dougie!" I shouted back to him, bringing Drake to a halt in the middle of the stampede.

"Charlotte, come on--"

"Dougie, hey how's it going?" I asked breathlessly Dougie shoved his way over to us. He eyeballed Drake briefly before shoving his hands into his pockets and smiling down at me.

"It's going."

"Charlotte I have to get to practice." Drake nudged my side. I glanced at him over my shoulder but focused directly on Dougie as I responded.

"Ok so go. You don't need me to throw around a ball, do you?"

The look on Drake's face matched the look on a kindergartener's face when you're forced to tell them that you're all out of elephant shaped animal crackers.

"I just thought we--"

"Come on, do you really think watching you practice football is going to be at all stimulating for me?" I pleaded, although my plead was an awfully distracted one.

Drake opened and shut his mouth twice while I shot Dougie a flirtatious smile. He covered up a chuckle with a very lame sounding cough.

"Besides, " I spun around and placed my hands boldly on Drake's shoulders, "The big dance is tonight. I need all afternoon to get ready."

Drake looked ready to call my bluff (the snort from Dougie didn't help I'm sure) so I sucked in my pride and kissed Drake softly on the lips.

"You want me to look beautiful, right?"

Drake almost immediately broke out into a sleazy grin and nodded, "Alright go ahead."

Oh, you go girlfriend. I got him whipped.

"I'll see you later." I smiled and shoved myself away from him roughly, grabbed onto Dougie's arm and practically flew off toward the front doors. When we got outside Dougie stopped me and spun me around to face him.

"Slow down, Sparky." He laughed, "You won't miss your hair appointment."

I scowled at him, "Who says I have a hair appointment?"

He shrugged. That was all, and Douglas Lee Poynter disappeared.

He was silent for a minute, which was awkwardly too long a time span, but what he broke that silence with was decidedly more awkward. More simply put; that apocalypse I was praying for, well it quite possibly came and went during this sentence.

"Did you have to kiss him?" He asked me. I stared at him, blinked at him, narrowed my eyes at him. Then I retorted with a confused and strangely insulted, but always effective:

"What?"

Dougie just looked at the ground and shook his head, "Nevermind."

I stared at him incredulously, "No, Dougie, tell me what."

Dougie still didn't look at me as he carefully stammered a response, "I just. . .I mean we. . " Then he stopped and looked up at me beseechingly. I held his nervous frustrated gaze for a long time before relenting.

"Yeah."

He seemed to relax a little and turned to survey the emptying parking lot.

"So what time is that hair appointment?"

I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless, "Five thirty." I answered sulkily, "And I really don't want to go."

Dougie chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "You'll survive, trust me. Besides it's not like they can do much to improve your do."

"Oh, Dougie, no flattery please, I already love you."

"Your hair is so straightened it'd take eight gallons of hair spray to hold a single curl."

I snatched up a few strands of my blond hair and peered at the split ends staring back at me, "And now I forget why I thought conditioner was a waste of money."

"Not to mention time better spent lathering your breasts." Dougie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I dropped my hair and fluttered my eyelashes at him.

"We aren't all as endowed as you."

Dougie shook his head, "I'd say we're pretty equally endowed. Just in different places." And although his tone was playful, I swear I caught his eyes drifting below my collarbone.

I couldn't even try to stop my flustered laugh.

But, once again, Dougie abolished the awkwardness as well as slammed us right back where we started, "So I assume Leah is the mastermind behind your very first hair-dressing experience?"

I shook my head, "Actually Danny made the appointment. But Leah did say that it was unnatural for an eighteen year old girl to be a salon virgin."

Dougie nodded, "I myself was deflowered years ago."

"Not surprising." I muttered. He shoved me gently, his hands still deep inside his pockets.

A familiar gesture that had somehow turned shy over the past few weeks together.

"So. . ." He said softly, "Do you wanna hang out and I'll drop you off at five thirty?"

I grinned and looped my arm through his, thankful for the contact as well as the idea of simply spending time with him at long last.

"Hellz yeah."

Dougie and I spent two and a half hours listening to my parent's thirty something year old vinyl records and trying to figure out which songs best described our affection for pudding, or at least our passion for movies starring one or more of the Baldwin brothers.

Then at five twenty-six he left me standing on the sidewalk outside a very frighteningly upscale looking salon with nothing but a charming smile and a vague promise of seeing me later. It was vague because I don't think either of us was so sure that I wouldn't have an anxiety attack sometime between our parting and the looming dance.

I'd never been one to do high school sociality exceptionally well.

Come to think of it I'd never been one to do sociality in general exceptionally well.

But I waited semi-patiently nonetheless, in an unbelievably comfort-wise deceiving red leather chair, for Leah to arrive and strap me into the spinning seat that quite terrifyingly resembled an electric chair.

"Hey, Chae, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised you showed up." Leah greeted as she slid through the door. I swiveled sideways to face her without taking my eyes off of the humming hair dryers.

"There is no way in hell that I am putting my head in there." I warned her. In response, Leah smiled, genuinely amused, and walked to the front desk to check us in.

Nearly an hour and forty-five minutes later, I paid a shocking amount of money to the hairdresser that will forever remain undisclosed, and tiptoed out of the salon.

"Charlotte." Leah laughed, "What the hell are you doing?"

I lifted my hands above my head to guard my expensive curls as I ducked carefully into her car, "This mound of dead cells and hairspray cost me a whopping amount of money that, frankly, I was saving to rescue the Beatles music from Michael Jackson. I will be taking zero risks from this moment on."

"You have way too much free time." Leah mused as she started the car.

"And you have way too much pink nail polish, but you never hear me complain, do you?"

She ignored me and we made our way back to my house to squeeze into our dresses.


End file.
